


A First Time For Everything

by The_Black_Cat



Category: Charmed (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, First Dates, First Kiss, Firsts, Fluff, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, OverWitch - Freeform, Some Intentional Flirting, Teasing, Unintentional flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:14:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25465318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Black_Cat/pseuds/The_Black_Cat
Summary: Every relationship has its firsts, countless of them. These are just some of Mel and Abi's.
Relationships: Abigael Jameson-Caine/Mel Vera
Comments: 16
Kudos: 74





	1. First Laugh

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there! 
> 
> I'm back with another OverWitch fic! This one's going to be longer, I'm thinking four-five chapters, but I don't know when I'll be able to update next. 
> 
> I'd just like to say I'm not a native English speaker, so if there are any mistakes in the story, I'm sorry. 
> 
> Now, without further ado, enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there!
> 
> I'm back with another OverWitch fic! This one's going to be longer, I'm thinking four-five chapters, but I don't know when I'll be able to update next.
> 
> I'd just like to say I'm not a native English speaker, so if there are any mistakes in the story, I'm sorry.
> 
> Now, without further ado, enjoy!

“Well, this is disappointingly boring,” Abigael proclaimed, sighing as she did. Mel only rolled her eyes at her, but she didn’t respond otherwise. They were sitting at a small café back in Hilltowne, watching an apartment building across the street. And much to Mel’s dismay, Abigael was right. It was boring.

They had been contacted earlier that day by a mountain fairy, who was in the college town for a biology conference, about having been attacked by what she’d called collectors. The Charmed Ones had agreed that it must have been the Faction and they’d decided to watch over the fairy until she left. The problem had popped up when they’d decided to split into teams to cover more ground. They hadn’t wanted anyone to go alone, but Jordan backed by both Maggie and Mel insisted that they needed to cover all exit points, for which they needed three teams. Their numbers, however, hadn’t been in their favour, and so they had decided, albeit reluctantly, to ask Abigael for help. Macy had thrown a fit and practically forbid Abigael anywhere near Harry or herself. Harry had also been adamant about not pairing up those people who had feelings for each other. Mel had shot the argument down before it could blow up in their faces by dividing them herself. Since everyone was reluctant to work with Abigael, and it was her idea to involve her in the first place, she paired up with the witch-demon. Macy and Jordan were watching the back entrance to the building and the fire escape from a conveniently empty apartment in the next building and Harry and Maggie were keeping an eye on the fairy, ready to fight or flee if need be.

So far, nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but Mel didn’t dare hope for a peaceful mission. As it was, they had nothing to do besides sit and stare. Mel’s mind was going a mile a minute, thinking of everything from battle plans to how this could go wrong, to how they needed this to work in their favour, to why the Faction needed a mountain fairy of all things, to how they might screw up and end up captured themselves, to how bad it would be if one of them got into the Faction’s clutches, to imagining how she would fight them off and inevitably fail and how she’d need to be rescued. For some reason, in her fantasy, it wasn’t her sisters running to her rescue, but rather it was Abigael confidently striding down the street like it was a catwalk runway, burning people left and right.

She stopped herself before the fantasy could progress. While she trusted Abigael and she was certain the witch-demon would help her, as their past experiences proved, she still couldn’t figure out her motivation for that particular action. Abigael had had nothing to gain by saving her. She had nothing to gain by helping them now. Ever since she lost her title as the Overlord, she had helped them without anything to gain. But Abigael wasn’t a person of charity, as Macy and Maggie liked to point out. Still, a part of Mel knew that there was light in Abigael, and if Abigael nurtured it, it would burn as bright as the sun.

But that didn’t explain why Abigael was helping them. She didn’t seem too keen on being morally good. And she didn’t have any personal or emotional investment in them, either. Her feelings for Harry were non-existent by this point, snuffled out by his rejection and her own pride. Macy and Maggie didn’t even try to be friendly, and even their semi-civil behaviour towards Abigael was Mel’s doing. And Mel herself didn’t have the best relationship with Abigael. Their time together was usually spent in silence, working on something. Their conversations were usually just jabs that didn’t really lead anywhere, or it was Mel pushing Abigael into revealing more about herself.

Mel ran her fingers down her empty cup. They were quiet now, like they usually were, comfortable and content, even with nothing to do.

Well, they had been, until Abigael decided she didn’t want quiet anymore.

“I do enjoy sitting in silence, but I want to at least have a glass of whiskey in hand.”

“That can be arranged. Just order one.”

Abigael scoffed. “Please. I don’t drink cheap whiskey.”

“Of course you don’t,” Mel rolled her eyes.

There was silence between them again, just for a few moments, but Mel relished its calmness while it lasted. Abigael was clearly getting bored and a bored Abigael was the perfect recipe for migraine because she thought that vexing people was a good way to pass time.

“Remind me again, why are we all here? This could have been easily accomplished by Harry alone.” There it was. Migraine in the making.

“Because somebody asked us for help.”

“And your goody-two-shoes sisters and you couldn’t have thought of a solution that wouldn’t put us all here, ready to be ambushed.”

Mel rolled her eyes pointedly. When Abigael continued to stare at her, looking like an overly comfortable cat, Mel sighed. “We couldn’t take her to our house. We still don’t know if there really is someone after her or not and exposing our only base like that would be too big a risk. But we didn’t want to put her in danger, either, just because we are in a situation where we can’t trust almost anyone.”

“So why risk your necks, and mine, when you could have just told Harry to orb her out if need be?”

“Things aren’t that simple.”

“They could be.”

“Not with the Faction. We don’t know what they have planned, we don’t know what they can do. If they can track magical beings, they might be able to track orbing—”

“Through magical signature,” Abigael filled in, eyes widening slightly.

“Yes. So, if Harry orbed out of that apartment and into our house, they’d know where we are, it would only be a matter of time then.”

A pleased, almost proud glint shone in Abigael’s hazel eyes. “Look at you, strategizing like it’s war.”

“It is war. In a sense.”

They fell quiet again. Abigael finished her tea with a displeased expression, but she still thanked the waitress when she came to take their empty cups. They sat there, calm and comfortable, the air between them both easy and tense at the same time. Mel wondered why Abigael didn’t push more. She usually liked getting on people’s nerves, exposing every raw patch she could find. Or she liked seducing people, whether to gain power over them or just because she genuinely liked the game, Mel didn’t know. But Abigael liked power. More accurately, she liked having power and exerting it over others. But now she seemed… almost content with how they functioned.

Mel’s phone chimed with a message, breaking her out of her thoughts. “It’s Macy. She and Jordan are back from their break. And Maggie hasn’t reported anything unusual yet, so that’s good.”

“Perfect,” Abigael remarked, “then perhaps it’s our time to take a break and find something to eat.”

“You’re hungry?”

“As it turns out, either the demons under Godric’s command are complete idiots when it comes to finances, or Godric himself doesn’t know how to manage a bloody lemonade stand. They’ve almost destroyed my company in the time they had it. I have to pull it up from a ditch, so excuse me if I had no time for food today,” Abigael said, the honey that her voice usually was disappeared into a sharp, fast hailstorm. She took a deep breath, her hand coming up to pinch at the bridge of her nose. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap like that.”

“’S okay. We can go get something to eat,” Mel smiled a small, tight-lipped smile. It was still so strange to be this open and comfortable with the demon-witch. There was a part of Mel that still refused to trust Abigael completely—demons can’s be trusted, it kept whispering in her mind. But Abigael wasn’t just a demon. She was a witch, too, and she’d been protecting witches as the Demon Overlord. And she’d saved Mel’s neck a few times, without ever demanding or getting something in return.

So maybe it shouldn’t be so strange that she felt so at ease with Abigael, so safe. Not protected, something Nico had managed to make her feel a long time ago, in a different life, but safe. She knew of her own capabilities and she was aware of the areas in which she lacked. She also knew that Abigael happened to be exceptional at the exact things Mel was bad at. They could get out of any and all situations together. The simple knowledge that they complemented each other in battle put Mel at ease.

Abigael stood up, placing some bills onto the table. “Shall we, then?”

Mel pulled on her jacket as she stood up. “Yeah. There’s a small diner down the street. They mostly do burgers or smoked ribs, but I think they have other things, too.”

“A small diner?” Abigael scoffed. She pulled open the door to the café and looked at Mel pointedly until the younger witch got the hint and brushed past her with a small nod and a thank you. “Hilltowne has some great restaurants, if my father’s stay here is any indication, and you want me to go to a run-down mum-and-pop place?”

“We can’t lose sight of the building,” Mel pointed out. They walked down the street, passing the few people that were still out, their pace slow as if they were out on a stroll. It was a warm evening, even with the sun already down, with just enough breeze to make their jackets comfortable. “Besides, I used to go there with my ex-… eh, ex-girlfriend.”

“Ex-ex?” Abigael asked slowly, her voice carrying both interest and indifference, as if she wanted to know more but didn’t want to look eager. The thought made Mel smile a little.

“Yeah. Her name is Nico. She was a detective here in town. We were together for two and a half years.”

“Sounds serious.”

“It was… until it wasn’t. She tried to help me after mom… but she couldn’t, so she let me go. Then we got back together after I got my powers, and I thought that was it, you know? I thought that was what my life would be. Constantly looking over my shoulder and watching her back to save her from demons. I-ah… I wanted to tell her I was a witch. The elders didn’t approve. And then a demon wanted to kill her. Your brother, actually.”

“Please, Parkey-Poo is too soft to be an assassin.”

“It was Hunter.”

“That makes more sense. Is that why you ended him? I would have liked to have a hand in that, but alas…”

“Yeah, but that was after.”

“After what?”

“After I decided to rewrite history as if Nico and I never met.”

Abigael scoffed at that. “Were you really that foolish? History rewriting spell has too many consequences on its own! Add to that personal gain consequences… ah, let me guess, you met again?”

“We did. Harry said it was fate trying to re-establish itself.”

“There is no fate, but if your souls called to each other, they were bound to find one another. No history rewriting spell can change that.”

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t the same. We still had something, but… I think I was eager to bring back the past and she was… I don’t know. But it doesn’t matter because we—I let it go. I was too dangerous for her, too unpredictable. Magic became my life, being a witch is not a nine-to-five job for me, it’s who I am! She could never share that with me. She could never understand.”

Abigael only hummed at that. Mel let out a puff of air as she slotted her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. When she saw that they were almost at the door to the diner, she looked up to Abigael and nudged her gently with her shoulder.

“Nico left me a few very good memories. Some of which are from here,” she pointed at the windows to the diner. A few patrons were sitting there, eating and chatting, ignoring the world outside.

“Aren’t you worried that they’re going to recognise you? You are supposed to be dead, after all.”

Mel paused, thinking, then she shrugged. “I’ll figure something out if it comes to that.”

“You know, we could always go to another place. There are restaurants here that you’ve probably never been to.”

“Yes, but I really want a burger. Besides, the closest thing from here is six blocks away, we can’t be gone for that long.”

This time Abigael rolled her eyes, but she pushed the door to the diner open. They stepped into the nicely air-conditioned room, Mel with her head down and a hand in her hair to hide her face, and found an empty booth in the back. They still could see the main entrance to the apartment building.

Mel watched as Abigael studied the menu with a comical expression that was stuck somewhere between surprised and terrified. After she put the menu down, wide, hazel eyes glancing up, Mel let out a chuckle. “What? Nothing fancy enough for you? Don’t worry, everything here is delicious, just pick something. They have salads, too.”

“I think I will trust your expertise in this department,” Abigael remarked, folding her hands on the top of the table. She schooled her face into a neutral expression, but Mel could still see the hints of unease there.

“Are you telling me to choose your food for you?”

“If you were preparing it, I wouldn’t be so generous with my trust, but as it is, you have more experience with this type of food than I do. Besides, I am…sating my curiosity with this little experiment.”

“Curiosity?”

“I have underestimated you before, Angry Spice, on multiple occasions, and you’ve managed to surprise me on every single one of them. I’m curious to see if you can surprise me again.”

Mel grinned. “Oh, it’s on. Prepare to have your mind blown.”

The smirk that spread on Abigael’s face spoke of more than just tasting new foods. “I’ll hold you to that.”

An older waitress walked up to them, eyes bright and smile brighter even under the yellow light of the neons above. “Hello, what may I offer you this fine evening?”

“Uh, yeah, hello,” Mel smiled up at the waitress. “Could we get two buttermilk chicken burger specials and two milkshakes? One strawberry, one chocolate.”

“Of course! I’ll be right back with your milkshakes,” the waitress smiled before taking off. She came back only minutes later and placed the two milkshakes down onto their table. “The burgers will be out in about half an hour.”

“We could have gotten a full course meal in that time,” Abigael remarked, reaching out to take the chocolate milkshake for her own.

Mel frowned at that. “Hey, that was mine!”

“You need to be faster next time.”

Growling under her breath with irritation at the witch-demon and at herself for feeling that strange warmth in her chest at the challenge in Abigael’s eyes, Mel crossed her hands on top of the table. “Besides. We might have gone to that fancy restaurant you keep talking about if we had the money to afford it—”

Abigael scoffed. “You think I can’t treat myself, and a beautiful woman, to the finer things in life once in a while?”

“And,” Mel decided to ignore the remark, “those restaurants are too far for us to walk to during surveillance missions. So, since you can’t phase-shift passengers, it was either this or the taco truck a block down, and you don’t want to eat there.”

“Ah, so you’re saying I’m responsible for not having a specific power?”

“I figured it ran in the family. Your brother could do it.”

“Do not bring my brother into this!” Abigael warned. “He was a fool and a naïve little daddy-pleaser. His ability to phase-shift others was the only useful skill he had and he had me take it away from him!”

“Why haven’t you taken it for yourself, then? If it’s so useful.”

Abigael glared at her, angry hazel flames in her eyes. “I’m not a power-hungry monster!”

“I never said you were,” Mel backtracked quickly. “I’m just saying that a power like that might give us a boost. And with the Faction wanting to control magic, we need all the help we can get. Strategically, taking his powers would be to your, and our advantage.”

“Do you know how power affects demons? Besides, it's not like I can take one specific power from the ceremonial dagger and leave the rest there. And—and what if I took those powers and got captured? The Faction can extract powers from creatures and they would definitely want an overpowered witch-demon to take powers from! Can you imagine what damage they could do with the powers I have now? With Parker’s powers, that would just get even worse!” Abigael sighed, shaking her head. She pulled her shoulders closer to her neck, her hands twitching as if she wanted to hug herself, and Mel was hit with the sudden want to wrap the demon-witch in her arms, pull her close and protect her from every evil of this world. “Besides, taking my brother’s, powers away did not rid him of his demons. His jealousy, envy, possessiveness, anger, they are still in him, as is his urge to please. He might want his powers back one and when that happens, I’d much rather have them in the dagger than in my body. It’s easier to wager his powers when I’m not putting my own on the table.”

Mel bit her lip, unsure of what to say. It wasn’t often Abigael revealed something this personal, and it still stunned Mel into silence how many things the half-witch had gone through and how many things she thought about every day.

Abigael sighed again. She looked into Mel’s eyes, pensive and unsure, before nodding once. “Demons don’t like discipline, but they fail to realise it takes discipline, focus and training to control one’s powers and urges. It’s taken me years to build as much control as I have, years of pain and studying and discipline. My brother has none of that and the Faction is even more careless than most demons are. If either of them got my powers, they would be overrun by the urges those powers feed. And if I took Parker’s powers now… I might be overrun by them as well. Powers don’t make a demon, but they help the selfish, destructive nature win over reason. That was why my father disregarded everything and everyone around him. I don’t want to be like my father. I will never lose that control.”

Mel watched as Abigael’s face hardened with every word. She couldn’t even imagine what was going on inside her. The constant battle between demonic selfish egoism and witchy tendency to preserve and protect, the never-ending struggle to stay in control, always calculating how the smallest actions would tip the scales and hurdle Abigael into complete darkness… She wondered how many times Abigael had to pull herself from that edge, all alone, with no other reason but her sheer determination not to be like the man she hated.

They fell into a gloomy silence. Mel wanted to say something, to reassure Abigael that she was as far from being like Alistor as she could get. But she feared that her words would be ignored, or worse, that Abigael would see them only as an attempt to anchor her even closer to the Charmed Ones. But talking to Abigael had worked on a few occasions already. She was reasonable, after all, and she needed to be reassured once in a while, just like everyone else.

Mel swallowed and wet her lips. “I’m sorry.” Abigael’s eyes jumped to her own, wide and soulful, the hazel in them seemed almost green. “I didn’t know. I can’t even imagine how… difficult that must be for you, keeping the demon in check. But you’re… you’re doing great. You are nothing like Alistor.”

“Well, I am half-witch,” Abigael remarked dismissively.

“Yes, and that may be helping, but it’s not because that,” Mel insisted. Subconsciously, she leaned closer, never letting her eyes leave Abigael’s. “You are choosing not to be like him. Every moment of every day. And I can’t even imagine how exhausting that is, but you’re doing it. And that’s exactly what makes you not evil. It’s your actions, not your parents, that determine whether you’re evil or not. And you, always fighting that darkness? That is good.”

Abigael let out a humourless chuckle, her eyes jumping to the window for a short moment before they returned to Mel’s, a soft, almost vulnerable expression on her face, complete with the corner of her lips pulled the slightest bit up in that almost-smile of hers. “That’s high praise coming from you.”

“Don’t get used to it, it’s special occasions, only.”

Abigael let out another chuckle, this time amused. Mel smiled, full and happy. She’s never seen Abigael laugh, but this was close enough.

Another silence fell over them, this one easy and light. They stole glances at each other, their eyes meeting more often than not, and they’d smile or chuckle every time. When it started feeling like too much, Mel pulled out her phone to check in with her sisters. She almost expected Abigael to speak up, but that didn’t happen, and Mel found herself enjoying the fact that they could be quiet together. She hated it when her dates talked just for the sake of talking.

But Abigael wasn’t her date, she reminded herself. Not that there would be anything wrong with that, Abigael was interesting, captivating and beautiful on the worst of days. That is not to say Mel wanted to date her.

Or did she? Abigael was insanely attractive and while she was selfish and disregarding in her ambition, she had many redeeming qualities. The fact that in her pursuit of power she managed to help and protect a number of innocent witches and demons even though it served her little to no purpose spoke volumes of the good that shone from behind her dark, demon exterior.

But that only meant that she found Abigael, in all her witch-demon, contradictory self, worthy of such feelings as affection and love, not that she herself was on her way to feeling those things for her. Could she even have those feelings for someone who’s tried to kill her sister and used them all more than once?

“Here you go! Two burger specials! Enjoy!” the waitress smiled a bright smile as she placed their food onto the table. Mel thanked her with a small smile, but she couldn’t bring herself to pay her more attention than that. Abigael was eyeing the burgers with judgement and distrust and it was hilarious how much she looked like a cat.

Abigael had enough decency to wait until the waitress was out of the earshot before she questioned. “Do you really expect me to eat this? I’ve seen gravy spilt on the kitchen floor more appealing than this.”

“Don’t knock it, it’s very good.”

“And greasy,” Abigael pointed out, but she pulled a plate close to her. “You know, fast-food and foods like this are one of the main reasons for obesity and cardiovascular problems.”

“This is not fast food,” Mel protested with a fry pointed at the other woman like an accusatory magic wand. “Just try it, okay? It tastes good and it has vegetables in it.”

“Just that there is a leaf of lettuce and a slice of tomato doesn’t mean it’s healthy.”

Mel rolled her eyes. “You forgot onions. Besides. You were hungry. I gave you food. Now eat.”

Abigael glared at her, but it looked more playful than anything. “Only because I’m very hungry.”

Mel watched with anticipation and hardly suppressed giggles as Abigael tried to sophistically take a hold of the burger. There were sauce and grease almost everywhere and whenever her fingers touched it, she reeled back and quickly wiped them into a napkin.

“You look like you’ve never eaten a burger,” Mel remarked. At Abi’s wide-eyed stare, she gasped. “Oh my god! You’ve never eaten a burger!”

“Yes, well, I do prefer real food to these atrocities.”

Grinning, Mel leaned closer, her own burger in hands. “Okay, okay, just… here. Hold it like this. Yeah. Don’t worry about getting your fingers wet. Yeah, like that.” Only when it was out of her mouth, and Abi’s eyes gleamed with mischief at her, did Mel realise what she just said. She cleared her throat but ignored the innuendo and Abi’s reaction to it. “Good. Just stay above the plate. You don’t want to get sauce or pieces of vegetables all over you. Okay. And just bite into it. Open your mouth as wide as you can and bite.”

“I can see how that’s not a problem for you,” Abigael bit out, but the jab was weak combined with how uncertain and awkward she looked holding that big burger in her thin hands.

“It won’t be for you, either,” Mel shot back, grinning. “Go on, just bite.”

Abi’s eyes shone with mischief again, and something that had Mel’s breath caught in her throat. “Look at that, Angry Spice has a kinky side.”

Mel could feel heat rising into her cheeks. She looked down for only a moment, but when she looked back up, she found hazel eyes boring into her own with an intensity that had her blushing even more. What was wrong with her? She’s never reacted to Abigael this way. Or anyone, for that matter.

The moment was broken when Abby lowered her eyes to the burger that was gushing sauce and juices all over her fingers. She stared at it for a second or two, then she took a small bite. She chewed slowly, too slowly for Mel’s liking.

“Well? It’s good, huh?”

Abigael swallowed before responding. “It’s… not as bad as I thought it would be.”

“See? Told you!” Mel took a happy bite of her own burger. “I could eat burgers at least once a week.”

“Once a month at most,” Abigael protested, “with good diet and exercise.”

“Don’t tell me the only demon-witch is afraid of a few calories.”

“It’s not about body image,” Abby answered between small bites of food. “Some magical abilities are directly tied to physique and levels of energy. A healthy lifestyle helps with controlling one’s powers.”

Mel narrowed her eyes. “Are you making that up?”

“When have I ever lied to you about magic?”

Nodding slightly, Mel let out a noncommittal sound. They spent the next few moments in silence, munching away on their food. That was, until Mel lifted her eyes to Abi’s face and saw it covered with sauce, with her cheeks puffed out like a squirrel and cattish eyes heavy-lidded and lazy. It was as far as it could be from the stylish, quick-witted seductress that was Abigael and Mel found it hilarious, endearing and surprising at the same time. Her chest warmed at the sight and she let out a soft chuckle.

Cattish, hazel eyes instantly bore into hers, curious, questioning and just a bit self-conscious. “What?”

“Nothing,” Mel tried to hide her smile. She succeeded only partly, and even that didn’t last long, so she lowered her head a little to mask the grin that spread on her face. When Abi’s gaze turned doubtful, she chuckled again. “It’s nothing, really, you just—and it’s completely normal when eating burgers, don’t worry—you have some… sauce… right here,” Mel pointed to the whole vicinity of her own mouth and cheeks.

Abi’s eyes widened comically. She grabbed a napkin and wiped her mouth, her movements only short of frantic.

Mel laughed. “I didn’t think the Abigael Jameson-Caine would be afraid of getting a little dirty.”

Abby glanced at her, eyes sparkling with mischief and something Mel couldn’t place. “Oh, I do love to get dirty when I eat. But not with food.” She threw in a wink for good measure.

Mel might have been stunned by the forwardness if it wasn’t for the speck of white sauce in the corner of Abi’s mouth that sat there like nobody’s business, looking like something completely different. She cleared her throat, trying not to laugh, and she pointed to her own mouth. “You still have a little…”

Abi’s eyes sparkled as she leaned in closer. “Why don’t you get it for me, then?”

“Uhm…” Mel’s throat clenched. Her hand trembled a little when she lifted it from the table. She looked at her fingers, frowned a little, steeled herself. It was just Abigael, no big deal. She’d dealt with Abigael more times than she could count already, she knew her, her moves and behaviour. There was no need to be nervous.

She watched as her fingers inched closer, closer, until the tips touched the soft skin at Abi’s jaw. She traced the line, only a little, until she caught herself. Wide-eyed and with her breath caught in her throat, she gently swiped at the corner of Abi’s mouth. The skin was warm and soft under her touch, addictive, and the sparks that she could feel dancing in her fingers only made it all more pronounced.

She pulled away, her eyes on Abi’s. Acting purely on reflex, she brought her thumb to her own mouth and licked the sauce off, only realising what she did when Abi’s eyes widened, their hazel colour shifting into dark forest-green.

“Thank you,” Abby said, her voice low and accent thicker than usual. Mel shivered. She’d never really paid much attention to accents, but the way Abby spoke was doing things to her.

“Sure,” Mel made herself nod, “it happens when eating burgers.”

Abi’s eyebrow twitched, her eyes lightened back into their hazel colour and the air between them relaxed a bit. “Another reason why burgers are not the best choice of food. They are messy.”

“But delicious!”

“Mediocre at best.”

“That is an insult to all good burgers out there!”

“And they deserve it,” Abby shrugged. A smirk settled on her face and her eyes sparkled with mischief and laughter, their hazel turning a little brighter. “Burgers have nothing on gourmet three-course meals.”

“They are delicious and they sate the appetite better than those small, fancy things.”

“Small, fancy things?” Abby chuckled. She lowered her head, her whole body shaking a little with badly suppressed laughter, and then she laughed out loud. It was a quiet sound, private, comfortable. It sounded like a breeze in the trees and water on a rocky riverbed and night rain in the grass. Mel’s chest warmed at the sound, and she couldn’t suppress her smile if she tried. She’d never heard Abby laugh before. The wait was definitely worth it.

“What?” Mel laughed along.

Abi’s eyes found hers. Her laughter quieted down, but her eyes still shone with it, and the smile on her lips was genuine and beautiful and so far away from that sarcastic, patronising smirk that she usually donned. “You might be a Charmed One, but you are severely lacking when it comes to knowledge of food.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know, I am really good at food!” Mel protested with mock offence.

“At eating it, you mean?”

“And cooking!” Mel boasted. Abi’s eyebrow quirked and her head tilted to the side the slightest bit in an expression that married surprise with doubt. “Well, sometimes. Okay, we are more of a pizza and take-out family, we don’t exactly cook. And when we do, it’s usually Harry, or sometimes Maggie. But I can cook, and do so when I have the motivation.”

“Uh-huh. And what do you cook? Burgers?”

“I did try those,” Mel admitted with a chuckle that prompted a quiet chuckle from Abi. “But mine weren’t half as good as these.”

“Ah, so you’re a terrible cook, then.”

“No, I’m not!”

“Oh, Angry Spice, burgers are only a step up from boiled eggs. If you messed that up, I wouldn’t let you within a ten feet radius of a kitchen.”

“I can do other things, too!”

Abby grinned at her. “Potions don’t count.”

Mel rolled her eyes but found herself smiling the whole time. “I don’t mean potions. I mean, I can make those too, sure, but I can make full course Puerto Rican lunch and dinner. I can make most Mexican and Spanish foods, too. I’ll prove it!”

“No, thank you. I don’t intend on putting my life on line because you have a terrible taste in food.”

“Excuse me?”

“That much you’ve proven with these…,” Abby glanced down at what little was left of her burger, fries and milkshake, “…big, non-fancy things.”

Mel groaned through a fit of laughter. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

Abby let out a noncommittal hum. She watched Mel’s face with a half-smile and content eyes.

Mel frowned. “What?”

“You have a little…” Abby murmured, leaning in over the table. She reached her hand out, the movement slow but sure, and touched Mel’s cheek. Her long, thin fingers were slightly cool against Mel’s heated skin. It sent a wave of warm, magic-like sparkles through her whole body. Then Abi’s thumb brushed Mel’s lower lip, slow and purposeful, yet gentle. Mel watched as Abi’s hand retreated slowly and went for the napkin on the table. Then it stopped. Abby looked into Mel’s eyes, a smirk on her face, as she slowly brought her hand up to her face. Her pink tongue peeked out for a second, just enough for Mel to notice, before the plump lips enveloped the thumb and made a show of sucking in clean.

Mel’s mouth went dry. She’d done the same thing, so she shouldn’t really be mad at the teasing. But the difference was that she’d done it on instinct, she hadn’t even been aware of doing it. Abby did it on purpose. She wanted to tease her.

Clearing her throat, Mel looked at her phone. They’d been at the diner for more than an hour. For more than an hour, she forgot that they were on a mission and that they were supposed to be watching an apartment building. How could she have forgotten? That was literally the reason they were there!

Mel quickly took a sip of her milkshake and cleared her throat. “We should probably get going.”

“What’s wrong?” Abby quirked an eyebrow teasingly. “Are you not enjoying the company? Or is it the food?”

“The food’s amazing, and the company is not terrible,” Mel couldn’t help the jab, at which Abby only smirked that tiny little smirk of hers that had Mel debating whether it was really there. “But we are here on a mission.”

“Your sisters didn’t report anything out of the ordinary.”

“How do you know?”

“You’re only fretting your usual amount.”

Mel gave her a deadpan stare.

“What?” Abby chuckled. “If you don’t want me to read you, stop being an open book.”

Mel feigned offence, complete with a frown and a slight reel back. “I’m not that easy!”

Instead of a response, Abby only quirked an eyebrow and lifted a corner of her mouth in that damned smirk of hers that had Mel’s belly fluttering nervously.

“Either way, we should go.”

“What’s the rush?” Abby asked, cocking her head to the side a little. “We can see the entrance to the building from here, and besides, it’s either this or that god-awful café and I’d rather suffer through these burgers than be subjected to that thing they call tea.”

A grin spread on Mel’s face. “Are you saying you liked the burger?”

“It was not as bad as I had expected. You’ve surprised me once again, Mel,” Abby admitted and Mel’s belly fluttered funnily as it always did when Abby used her name instead of one of the nicknames. It felt more intimate, more immediate, more emotional.

“Told you.”

“Ah, but I’m telling you a gourmet meal would be much better. And I intend to prove it. This Saturday.”

The words gave Mel a pause, but she didn’t dwell on them for too long. There was a challenge in Abi’s voice, and Mel had been unable to stop herself from rising up to that challenge ever since they’d met Abigael.

“Fine. Under one condition.”

“Name it.”

“I’m paying today. And you can’t spend more money on that gourmet meal you keep talking about than I do on these burgers.”

A frown appeared on Abi’s face for the briefest moment. Then she looked Mel straight in the eyes, a confident smirk on her face and an eyebrow quirked. “Game on. This Saturday, my apartment, say, seven-ish?”

“I’ll be there.”

The smirk on Abi’s face widened, her eyes never leaving Mel’s. There was a challenge in them, confidence, but also something else, something soft, that made the hazel colour of her eyes shine. Mel couldn’t help the smile that spread on her face. There was no way Abby would be able to get the meal she wanted for the price of two burger specials and milkshakes, that just wasn’t possible. Mel’s already won.

But if that was the case, why did she agree to it? It wasn’t simply because she wanted to see the defeated look on Abi’s face, she wasn’t petty like that. So why? Just to be a good influence on Abigael? Just to try and show her that the demon way is not the only one?

The soft, pulsing warmth in Mel’s chest told her that wasn’t the only reason why she wanted to spend more time with Abigael. While she was half-demon and inconsistent in her way of acting, Abby was a good person underneath pride and trauma. And while she had done bad things, she’d also done things worthy of admiration.

Abigael was contradictory and complicated, even more so than most people. She was strong-headed, self-assured and ambitious, all the things Mel liked in a woman. Only Abigael was much more than that. She was cool-headed and she always looked at the bigger picture. She was powerful, and well-aware of it, and she didn’t have any remorse for hurting someone if it needed to be done. Mel, on the other hand, only dealt with the crisis at hand and didn’t think of how her actions would fit into the bigger picture, she was reckless and impulsive and careless in many things. Abigael was one of the few people who could get under Mel’s skin. And she was one of the few who could get Mel to sit down and listen, by force if need be. And Abigael seemed to listen to what Mel had to say. They had an understanding, they worked well together.

That was why Mel was so ready to accept the invitation, regardless of what it represented. She wanted to spend more time with Abigael. She wanted to get to know her more, to discover what was hidden underneath the manipulative, cold, demonic exterior. She’d only caught glimpses of it so far, but she was intrigued, and she liked what she’d seen.

But could she actually develop feelings for someone who’d tried to kill her sister? If it was Abigael, complicated, contradictory, layered Abigael, then yes. She definitely could.

She was already on her way there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's all for today. I hope you liked the chapter! Let me know what you think in the comments or come talk to me on my [Tumblr](https://justalittlewritingnerd.tumblr.com/)! I love reading what you guys have to say about my stories! 
> 
> I hate you all, hoomans!


	2. First Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there!
> 
> First of all, thank you for leaving kudos! It's still a small fandom, and I think it's going to be that way until the next season is released, so you guys leaving kudos means a lot to me.
> 
> Anyway, here's the second chapter of the story! We're slowly moving up in the relationship! 
> 
> I'd like to say a few words first, and if you don't want to read my own thoughts about this story, feel free to skip this. I know that when writing a fanfic for a show like Charmed, it is expected that there would be more magic and action. But I think the show gives us more than enough of that. There's always something happening there, be it a demon attack or a ploy to steal all magic. I like to think about the moments between these action-packed scenes and what the characters do when they're not high on adrenaline. And putting Mel and Abby, quite possibly the two most magic-infused characters in the show, into situations that don't require them to be magical in any way has a charm of its own. They are used to battling demons and fighting for survival, so seeing them in a completely normal, every-day situation, like eating burgers or having a normal, non-magical date, isn't something we as viewers expect to see. But it's a part of life, even for them, and I love the idea of the Charmed Ones, especially Mel whose choice to be a witch is more innate than her sisters', in normal situations. It brings out different sides to their characters - and different ways in which the sides we already know present themselves - and makes them more believable and relatable, I think. 
> 
> All right, rant over. Let's move to the chapter itself! Hope you like it!

Mel’s stomach churned nervously as she walked into the apartment building. She didn’t remember being this nervous before a date. Then again, the last time she had been on a proper date had been about two and a half years ago, and the last time she’d been on a first date had been with Nico, which now seemed like a lifetime ago. Jada wasn’t the dating kind of person and Ruby liked casual meet-ups and hang-outs too much to sacrifice them for a real date.

But this did kind of feel like a first date, and that made her nervous. She didn’t remember what to do on those. And she liked Abigael. Or parts of her, anyway. From what little she knew of her, Abigael was someone who could offer safety and solace as well as excitement, and Mel was more than ready to get to know more of her. Where she used to suffer through Abigael’s never-ending jabs and remarks, now she enjoyed them. Where she used to loathe the sight of the demon-witch, now she relished those stolen moments where she could just look at her. Abigael could keep Mel on her toes better than anything or anyone. Not even Jada’s secrecy or Nico’s drive to solve everything had that effect on her.

There was only one problem. Abigael hadn’t specified anything when she’d invited Mel over and they never got around to having that conversation, so even though they flirted at what seemed like every opportunity nowadays, Mel didn’t know for certain what she was walking into. A part of her wanted for it to be a date, complete with a kiss goodnight, holding hands and giggling like a pair of stupid teenagers. Another part of her wasn’t sure that would be a good idea. The only problem with that part was, the closer Mel got to Abigael’s apartment, the fewer reasons to prepare for a not-date it could offer.

Her hand trembled when she lifted it to knock. She swallowed, her throat clenched almost painfully and her stomach turned. Her fingers tightened on the handles of the gift bag she had with her. She counted her breaths in hopes of keeping them steady and quiet. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eigh—

The door opened, revealing Abigael with her hair pulled up, clad in a simple cocktail dress that left her neck, collarbones, shoulders and arms clearly visible. Her skin looked soft and pale in the yellowish light coming from the apartment, and it made Mel want to run her fingers over it to see how soft it really was.

“Angry Spice,” Abigael greeted with sparks of mischief in her hazel eyes. “You have impeccable timing.”

“I’ve never been complimented on that,” Mel remarked. Remembering herself, she lifted the hand with the gift bag, offering it to Abigael. “Here. I wasn’t sure what to bring and the cashier said red’s always a good choice. I would’ve gotten some flowers, too, but I didn’t if it was appropriate.”

Abigael took the bad and fished out the bottle. “Indeed. With a little training, you’ll be a wine connoisseur.”

Mel quirked an eyebrow at her. She hoped Abigael would react to her flowers comment in a way that would confirm or deny this being a date, but the demon-witch ignored it in favour of stepping back further into the apartment.

“Come on in. And don’t be nervous, I won’t bite. Not right away.”

Mel stepped into the apartment, fidgeting with the flops of her blazer. It was a smaller apartment compared to the one Abigael had lived in as the Demon Overlord, but it was equally as well-maintained and open-spaced. There was soft, jazzy music coming from the speakers put around the living room and the air smelled like delicious chicken, cheese and Abigael. Mel couldn’t get enough of it.

“I must admit,” Abigael remarked as she led to the kitchen, where there was a table set with black-and-solver sloth and white porcelain plates, complete with wine glasses and candles, “you’ve made this quite difficult. No restaurant would serve the food I wanted for the price of two burgers. So instead I chose to buy the ingredients and make something myself.”

“You cook?” Mel asked, surprised.

Abigael motioned for her to sit down before getting a bottle of white. “Occasionally. I don’t have as much time as I’d like what with the company and all. Would you like some wine? I also have some beer in the fridge, but this Pinot Grigio would go nicely with the meal.”

Mel bit her lip. She did like beer more than wine in general, but it was clear that Abigael had put a lot of thought and effort into this dinner and Mel didn’t want to put all that to waste. “I’ll rely on your expertise.”

Abi’s eyes gleamed. “Are you putting yourself at my mercy?”

“Only for tonight.”

The smirk didn’t leave Abi’s lips even after she poured the wine. She then took two plates and went to the kitchen counter. “I hope vegetable soup and chicken is all right with you. Chicken is generally the most favoured meat with women.”

“Yeah, it sounds great. And it smells amazing.”

There was a proud smile on Abi’s lips when she placed the plate down in front of Mel. The scent that rose from it was making her mouth water.

Once Abigael was seated opposite her, she lifted her wine glass with that sinful, self-confident smirk plastered on her face. “Bon appetite, Little Witch. You’ll see that a finely done gourmet meal is much better than those burgers you like so much.”

“I wouldn’t count on that,” Mel retorted confidently. The glasses clinked together, the sound drowned the jazz music for a second, and they both took a sip of their wine at the same time, both looking the other straight in the eyes.

Mel slowly put the glass down and glanced at the soup. She could feel Abigael’s eyes on her, expectant and curious as if she genuinely wanted to know what Mel thought of her cooking. Mel swallowed through the thickness of her throat. Her fingers trembled slightly as she took the silver-looking spoon.

“Are you nervous?” Abigael asked suddenly, her voice soft and sweet like honey.

Mel cleared her throat. “I—eh, yeah. Pretty nervous.”

“Why? It’s just me.”

“Exactly.”

Abigael’s eyes studied her face for a moment, questioning and curious and sparkling. “I hadn’t tried to kill you or your sisters in quite some time. And the food isn’t poisoned.”

“It’s not that, I trust you,” Mel found herself saying. It came out of her mouth easily, too easily perhaps, but she realised she was quite comfortable with the sentiment. She did trust Abigael, almost as much as she trusted her sisters or Harry. Yes, they did have their differences, but Abigael had always come through in the past, and if she was being honest with herself, Mel would run to Abigael’s aid at a moment’s notice, too.

“What is it, then?”

“This. This whole thing, it’s…” Mel shrugged. She took a sip of the fruity wine to wet her mouth and dry throat, and to give herself something to do while she searched for words. She usually knew what she wanted to say, but now, it seemed that words were very difficult to catch. Which, considering the calmness and strange easiness of the situation was rather unusual.

But that was it, wasn’t it? How calm and easy this whole dinner was. Granted, Mel was a nervous wreck because she didn’t know what exactly was going on and she didn’t know how to act, but spending time with Abigael had become easy somewhere down the road. And that was strange.

But was it really? Mel had always wanted to get closer to Abigael in hopes of being a good influence on her and she wanted to spend time with her. Only now it wasn’t about making Abigael good, rather it was about learning how to accept that she wasn’t conventionally good purely because Mel enjoyed her company. The sharp wit, the spark of care in her eyes, the gentle way her thin fingers would brush Mel’s skin if she got hurt on a mission…

Mel’s stomach gave a nervous flutter and she had to shake herself out of her thoughts. Abigael was still waiting for her to explain, with sparkling curiosity instead of biting remarks.

“It just seems strange,” Mel said finally. “We’re here, about to eat dinner together, there is music and there are candles and it feels… normal. It’s like the classy first date I’ve always low-key dreamt about but never had the chance to have. But we don’t do normal! We’re witches—or a witch and a half witch-half demon. We rarely get time to relax with the Faction out there and Godric and demons and every threat to the magical community imaginable! And yet, here we are, just ignoring everything out of this apartment, like it doesn’t matter. It feels strange.”

“Good strange, I hope?” Abigael’s eyes gleamed with a green light. “I know this may come as something unusual to you, what with your saviour complex and all, but it’s good to let yourself breathe once in a while. You aren’t responsible for everything.”

“But aren’t we? I mean, I am one of the Charmed Ones! We are supposed to help and protect the magical community, and the innocent people. And you were the Demon Overlord, you still can be! That’s a lot of responsibility, too!”

“Indeed,” Abigael agreed with ease that surprised Mel. “But we are not gods. We need rest, our bodies and minds. And we need to think about other things, too, not just responsibility and death. Life is more fun than that.”

“For most people, yes. But for us? We have that responsibility.”

Abigael’s eyes hardened. “You can always leave if you want.”

“I don’t!” Mel assured quickly, eyes wide and heart beating fast. “I… I like this. It just feels… strange.”

“Then perhaps we should take your mind off of that responsibility.”

“How? It’s not something I can just turn off.”

“No, but we can give you different thoughts to occupy that big brain of yours.”

Mel rolled her eyes. “Now I don’t even know if that was an insult or not.”

Abigael laughed a short, free laugh. “Not an insult, Little Witch. I find your curiosity quite amusing.”

“You really need to work on your compliments,” Mel deadpanned.

Abigael hummed, bringing her glass to her lips. “How about we enjoy this evening, you try this delicious food and we try to hold a conversation?”

Mel’s throat tightened again. That sounded suspiciously like a description of a date. It only made Mel more confused. What was Abigael’s plan here? Was Mel supposed to just ask?

As if she knew exactly what was going on in Mel’s head, Abigael grinned at her and jerked her chin towards the soup. “You might want to get to that while you wreck your brain. It’s getting cold.”

Nodding, Mel clenched the spoon in her hand and tried the soup. She had to bite her cheek to keep in the moan that wanted to spill from her mouth. “Wow, this is good!”

Abigael’s lips curled up in a pleased smile. “Better than those burgers of yours?”

“No. But just as good.”

“As good? You compare garbage fast-food to gourmet cuisine and you say it’s ‘as good’! Clearly, you know nothing of food.”

Mel swallowed at the look in Abigael’s eyes. There was no anger, but the hurt and bruised pride were clearly visible.

“I know enough to know that there is an opportunity for every food. I wouldn’t serve this soup at a movie night, just like I wouldn’t serve chicken burgers at a charity gala. Foods like this are meant for special occasions, anniversary dinners, business dinners, first dates for certain people, things like that. Burgers, quesadillas or your British ‘fish and chips’ Harry keeps going on about are more common foods, for casual dinners, going out with friends and such.”

“Gourmet meals are adaptable to any of those situations.”

“All right. Imagine that you are in a romantic relationship. You’ve been together with your partner for some time and you’re comfortable around each other, and you know they’re coming over for dinner at seven, but you just got home from work at quarter past six, you have nothing prepared and grocery day is tomorrow, so you don’t have that many things in the fridge.”

“Is that from personal experience?”

“Yes. Now, what would you do?”

“I would take her out to a good restaurant.”

Mel had to keep herself from reacting when she heard the ‘her’ combined with the intense, pointed way Abigael was staring into her eyes. “She’s not dressed for a good restaurant and there’s no way you could get reservations so fast.”

“I’m a Caine, of course I could get reservations!”

Mel’s only reaction was to roll her eyes.

“But, I suppose,” Abigael continued slowly, as if she was thinking the situation over, “there wouldn’t be enough time to cook something decent, in the scenario you described. And if we do know each other well enough to be comfortable with each other, I suppose I wouldn’t be too ashamed to make chicken stir-fry or something equally simple.”

“Ashamed? Why would you be ashamed of being able to cook?”

“Simple foods don’t require skill and finesse.”

“Of course they do! You need to know what to do, what you can combine, how and when! Besides, those simple foods are the only way to build yourself up to the more complicated ones,” Mel was quick to protest. “And, since you don’t have to be constantly focused when you cook those ‘simple meals’, you can chat with someone and drink and have food-fights, or maybe even make out against the kitchen counter.”

Abigael’s eyes flashed with something, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. “My mother wouldn’t be too fond of that.”

“Did she teach you?”

“She did. She was very…particular about the way food was supposed to be made and consumed. Food was art and the person making it needed not only to make it taste good, but also to make it look good. She would always tell me to be the best I could be at what I was doing, and that meant making increasingly more difficult meals and not getting back to those casual foods I have already mastered.”

“That sounds harsh,” Mel commented quietly.

“I suppose. Still, cooking with mum gave me some of the best memories I have of her. When we were cooking, I wasn’t a half-demon who needed to suppress her darkness and only learn witchcraft. I was just her daughter in the kitchen, not her apprentice. Not an abomination or a monster. After she passed, I… I found myself craving those moments of peace and closeness. And I found that cooking made me feel like that, even after she was gone. So, I continued to learn. It became something of a passion of mine.”

“Your mom sounds like a hardass. But she gave you something to love, and that’s an amazing gift.”

Abigael hummed noncommittally. They finished what little was left of the soup in silence only broken by the soothing jazzy tune that played in the background. Just like before, Mel found herself enjoying it. It was strange that Abigael could get on her nerves and annoy her to no end one moment and then the next she could offer her silent companionship that came with the feeling of safety and calmness like Mel had never experienced. But no matter what she did, Abigael always brought with her that strange feeling that settled into Mel’s stomach and warmed her up from the inside like a cup of hot tea on a cold, winter evening. Mel was familiar with the feeling; she knew it well from her time with Nico.

She was falling for the demon-witch. And she didn’t want to stop herself.

“I hope you have room for more,” Abigael said once their plates were clean.

“There’s more?”

“Of course. I wanted to prove my point, so I got ready to blow your mind.”

Mel’s mouth went dry at how Abigael’s voice dropped low at the end of the sentence. She licked at her lips in a vain attempt to wet them, then she cleared her throat. “So, uhm, what are we having?”

The knowing smirk firmly plastered on the demon-witch’s face was both irritating and enticing, and it stayed even as she stood up to gather their plates. “Chicken saltimbocca with garlic mash potatoes. While not as simple to get done, it’s rather delicious. Much like myself.”

Mel nearly choked on her saliva at the words and the low, sultry voice Abigael said them in. Maybe this dinner wasn’t a date or a point to prove, but an attempt at murder, Mel thought, with all those innuendoes and smirks and especially with how Abigael’s hips swayed as she walked around the kitchen, making their plates.

“I was thinking of making lamb chops or perhaps salmon,” Abigael continued as if she didn’t know exactly what she was doing to poor Mel, “but I thought tender was the way to go with you. At least on our first time.”

Mel took a sip of her wine. Abigael was good at this game, she knew how to use her words and her voice and her body to get what she wanted. But there was something more to her, Mel noticed when Abigael turned around to bring them their food. Tension in her muscles, a curiosity that sparkled hazel-green in her eyes, a nervous tremble of her thin, elegant hands. Was it possible that she faced the same uncertainty Mel battled? Could it be that Abigael wasn’t sure what this thing between them was and hoped to get a response out of Mel?

No, Mel told herself, that wasn’t it. Abigael acted too nonchalant to the nature of this dinner and, by proxy, their relationship for her to be nervous.

But what if? What if she wanted to know, too? What if this whole time, Abigael was pushing the ball into Mel’s court in hopes of having it sent back, and Mel was just too blind to see it?

It was time to test the theory. Looking straight into Abigael’s eyes, Mel said: “Tender is nice once in a while. But I don’t break easily. And I’ve always liked a little…spice.”

Abigael’s lips turned up in that sinful smirk of hers and she leaned forward a bit too much as she placed the plate of chicken in front of Mel. She lingered there, her breath hot and ticking against Mel’s ear. “I’m sure I’ll find a… good use for that piece of information.”

Mel shivered at the implications in the demon-witch’s voice. She sounded like strawberry sin bathed in chocolate and Mel couldn’t get enough.

“Well, Charmed One,” Abigael started in a conversing tone once she was seated again, “I have told you a lot about myself up until now, but I still know very little about you.”

“I thought I was an open book,” Mel teased.

“In some ways, yes. I can see some of your characteristics and I can predict how you’ll act in certain situations based on that. But I don’t know about your past or your passions. I might know what makes you tick, but I don’t know what makes you, well, you.”

For a moment, Mel just looked into those curious, hazel eyes. She didn’t know what she was trying to find there, she trusted Abigael not to use her or make fun of her, and she was more convinced with each passing moment that the demon-witch was actually interested in her. Still, a part of her was pleased when she found just sincere curiosity, even though on Abigael, even that looked like she was ready to eat Mel instead of the chicken.

“What do you want to know?” Mel asked.

“Since we seem to enjoy talking about food so much, what brought you to love take-out and fast-food?”

To give herself time to formulate the answer, Mel took a bite of the chicken, and the moan that left her throat was downright pornographic. The taste was heavenly. And the pleased, captivated and turned-on look on Abigael’s face was almost just as good.

“Well, for one, we’ve never had food like this,” Mel said when she finally found it in herself to speak, making Abigael chuckle. “But really, it was more practical than anything. Mom was never fond of cooking. She did it when she had to, she had some foods she liked to make, Puerto Rican and Mexican, mostly, and she even taught Maggie and me how to find our way around a kitchen, but it just wasn’t something any of us enjoyed doing. And then my father sent us less and less money because he got into some tough spots on his expeditions—which I only recently learnt were dealings on the black market gone wrong—and mom just didn’t have the time. Keeping a house as big as ours and feeding two daughters cost a lot of money. We pitched in where we could, I worked some jobs since I was a sophomore in high school and Maggie got a job when she got into university to make it easier, but it was still a lot. Mom had to take on different things at the university to get more money, and she didn’t have the time to cook. Neither did we, with school and jobs and all that. So, we just switched to take-out. It was affordable and it didn’t take time.”

“You had a hard time growing up,” Abigael remarked.

“Not as hard as running for your life with assassins at your back.”

“True. But still.”

“Nah, there are people who have it worse. We had a nice house, warm food and all the support we needed. Mom always tried to give us everything we needed and most of the things we wanted. Sure, I didn’t have a Walkman or a Gameboy growing up, but I did have the biggest collection of Pokémon trading cards when I was a kid!” Mel proclaimed proudly, prompting a free, amused laugh from Abigael. “Yep! And I was the best trainer on the street, too! That was until Maggie learnt how to play. She stole most of my cards, but she never liked the game much, so she lost most of them.”

Abigael watched her with a small, fond smile playing on her lips and sparks of something gentle in her eyes. It was a look that took Mel’s breath away from her and left her feeling lightheaded and warm all over.

Mel stabbed at the food, suddenly vulnerable under that gaze. She didn’t know what to do or say, and the fact that Abigael was just watching her, not saying a word, was unnerving.

“She always did that,” Mel spoke, just to keep her mind away from how nervous she suddenly was. “She got into something I liked, then stopped as soon as she realised that I found something else. I thought she genuinely wanted to do those things, so I let her so that she would never feel like she was in my shadow, but now I think she just wanted to get closer to me. I don’t know how much closer she wanted to be, honestly, we did everything together when we were kids. When we’d go to the pool, I’d sit in the kiddie pool with her for almost the whole day because she didn’t want to be alone! Of course, she ran off to the other kids as soon as we got there, but I could never go away, or she’d instantly look for me. I taught her how to swim and play catch and ride a bike, and how to drive later on, but she doesn’t like it. And when she broke a vase that out great-grandmother gave to mom as a wedding gift, she came to me for help. We searched the whole of Hilltowne to find one like it! But there was nothing! And when mom came home from work, I took the blame because I knew Maggie would cry if mom gave her a talking… it makes me wonder what things would be like if Macy was with us then.”

“What do you think they’d be like?”

“I don’t know. I guess I wouldn’t be here if that were the case.”

A frown appeared on Abigael’s face, complete with a cute little crease between her brows. “What do you mean?”

“Well, Macy and Maggie share a father. I am the half-sister,” Mel said. She tried to make it nonchalant, but it still felt strange in her mouth, like she was sputtering out dry sand rather than words. “So, I guess if Macy and their dad didn’t have to go away, mom wouldn’t have married my father and I wouldn’t have been born.”

There was silence for a moment, heavy and thick with unspoken words that didn’t want to come out. It was Abigael who broke it. “If you needed to perform a Patronus charm—”

“Harry Potter? Really?”

“Hear me out. Let’s say you need the Patronus charm. What memory would you use?”

Mel hummed, frowning. The memory of coming out to her mom and Maggie instantly came to mind, how accepting and good they were to her, how safe she felt then. It was instantly pushed away by the memory of Macy, Maggie and herself, sitting on Maggie’s bed, watching some stupid rom-com on Maggie’s laptop, with popcorn all around them and the movie forgotten for the sake of them talking about everything and nothing. Some of the memories with Nico flashed in her mind, each of them slightly bitter with sadness and regret. Then she thought back to her sisters, to her mom, to Harry. How her family changed in the past two years.

“I think the memory I would use is of initiating Maggie into the Vera-Vera-Vaughn sisterhood.”

Abigael quirked an eyebrow, an amused smile on her lips. “You’ll have to elaborate on that.”

“Well, when we were still in Hilltowne, Maggie was trying to get into this sorority, but she failed because there always was a demon trying to kill us. She was devastated. She’s always tried to find somewhere to belong, even though I told her repeatedly that her worth is not based on social groups she thinks she belongs in, so when she didn’t get in, it was painful for her. So, Macy and I decided to do an initiation into the sisterhood for her, to let her know she always had a place with us, that we were there and we wouldn’t just up and leave. It was the first time I worked alone with Macy, actually,” Mel frowned a little at that, but it was quickly pushed back by a smile when she remembered how the ‘initiation’ went. “We wore these stupid bathrobes and we had candles and some ceremonial music playing, and we even made up initiation wows! Maggie was so happy she kept making these little ‘eep’ noises. And the proud look both she and Macy had when Macy pinned that stupid, paper ‘V’ onto her bathrobe… and then we initiated Harry as an honorary sister, too.”

That prompted a chuckle out or Abigael, but it didn’t stop the strange way she was looking at Mel.

“What?” Mel asked finally.

“I find it strange how you talk about your sisters even when you’re supposed to be talking about yourself.”

“Well, I,” Mel shrugged, unsure, “I guess that’s what happens when you have strong bonds with your family. Your life is not just about you.”

A shadow of sadness crossed Abigael’s face. “I suppose for someone as overprotective and overbearing as you, that would be the case.”

“Everyone has a family, Abby. You included.”

“The only family I have left asked me to strip him of his powers before leaving who-knows-where. Not that he had any reason to stay.”

“He wasn’t exactly welcoming when he met you, either.”

“Well, Godric did tell him I wanted to kill him. I would have done the same thing in his place.”

“Yeah, that would have made anyone cautious.”

“Not you, apparently,” Abigael said with a quirk of an eyebrow and head tilted slightly to the side. “I tried to kill your sister and yet, here you are, enjoying a lovely dinner with me.”

“Yeah, well, you did think we were trying to kill you, so…” Mel offered.

“Look at you, playing the devil’s advocate. If that’s how you treat the woman who cooks for you, I should do it more often.”

“I’m not going to stop you, you’re amazing at it,” Mel grinned, making Abigael smile a little, too, “but it’s not that. I’m just… trying to see the world from a different perspective.”

“You? The most stubborn person in existence?”

“I’m stubborn when I believe I’m in the right, but… you’ve shown me the world isn’t just black and white. What’s right for me might wrong for someone else. I need to learn how to accept the differences the world is made of.”

“That’s very big of you.”

Mel shrugged, smiling a crooked smile. “What can I say? I want to be the bigger person.”

“Coming from the smallest of the Charmed Ones, that’s not very reassuring,” Abigael teased.

“Hey!”

“What is it, Fun Sized? Did I strike a nerve?”

“Oh, shove it, demon spawn!”

Abigael feigned offence, complete with a gasp and a hand pressed to her chest. “And here I thought we were past that.”

“What memory would you use? If you needed to do a Patronus charm.”

It was quiet for a while, heavy and uncomfortable. Mel could see the sadness in Abigael’s eyes, the dark shadow that took over her features. She watched as Abigael’s jaw worked nervously, her muscles bulging up under the soft, pale skin, she watched as her lips trembled and throat bobbed when she swallowed.

“I don’t—I don’t think I could conjure a Patronus, really,” Abigael said finally, and Mel’s heart clenched painfully at the admission.

“There must be some happy memories that you have,” Mel tried, voice soft and hopeful.

“I’m not a selfless person, Little Witch.”

“Happiness is not equal to selflessness. My happiest memories include the people I love, and they are happy because of that love. Love and goodness are part of who I am. You are your own person and the things that make you happy don’t have to correlate with mine, or anyone else’s.”

“I suppose,” Abigael voiced after a while, “if I had to try conjuring it, I would use a memory of my mother. When she wasn’t trying to vanquish the demon side of me, that is. But I don’t think I would have a need for a Patronus charm. Dementors are beings of darkness and they don’t attack evil witches.”

“You’re not evil,” Mel countered without thinking.

Abigael’s eyes flashed with something. “I am what I am.”

“No. You are what you choose to be. It’s not your blood that defines who you are, it’s your actions and intentions.”

“That’s not much better, considering the people I’ve hurt.”

“And how many have you helped?” Mel challenged. Abigael’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t answer. “You’ve protected witches and demons, saved countless lives, including mine. You want to see yourself as evil, maybe because it’s easier not to have any expectations of yourself, I don’t know. But you’re not evil. Cunning, ambitious, adaptable, yes to all of those, but you’re not evil.”

“Didn’t you say demons can’t be trusted?”

“I did. And I was wrong. I trust you, Abigael. I’ve put my life in your hands. Hell, I’ve put my sisters’ lives in your hands! That’s the ultimate expression of trust on my part.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m a good person.”

“No. But it means you’re not evil. And that’s enough.”

“I never thought I’d hear you say something like that. You’re always on about the forces of good and how adopting puppies is going to save the world.”

“I told you, I’m trying a different perspective. At least for a while. Besides, if you want to move a mountain, you have to start with small stones. We’ll get you to the side of good, we just need to do it in baby steps.”

Abigael chuckled at that. The tension around her eyes disappeared and the shadows that lined her face lightened up until Mel could almost forget about them. It made her wonder how often Abigael thought of the people she’d hurt. When did she even start caring about that? Maybe it was always there, she just didn’t allow anyone to see it before. That thought saddened Mel. If Abigael had truly always cared, then that meant she’d been carrying the guilt all along, and neither Mel not her sisters ever tried to help her in any way. Granted, they couldn’t have known, but it still weighed down on Mel’s conscience.

A gentle click of an empty wine glass on the table brought Mel out of her thoughts. Abigael was looking at her, confident and comfortable like a cat sitting in its favourite spot, but Mel could see the nervous glint in her eyes and the way the muscles in her jaw and neck were taunted. Still, when she spoke, there was not a trace of nervousness in Abigael’s voice. “Do you want to watch a movie? I can call you a uber if you want to call it a night.”

“A dinner and a movie?” Mel remarked with a quirked eyebrow and a smirk. “A girl might think this was more than just you proving your point.”

“Perhaps a girl would be correct,” Abigael hummed, a smirk on her face before she stood up. “You can make yourself comfortable in the living room and find a movie for us to watch while I deal with this.”

Mel watched for a moment as the witch-demon collected their plates and went to the sink, her hips swaying slightly and her steps confident. It was such a mundane thing, doing the dishes, so normal that it struck Mel as strange. They rarely did normal things with demons and the Faction hunting them, and now seeing something so completely non-magical made her appreciate that which she used to hate. Mel’s always had a strong opinion on habits and ‘normalcy’, especially the patriarchal idea of those things. She’s always wanted the world to be made of something more than just what she had grown up seeing. And it was. It was full of magic and spells and powers and talents. And Mel revelled in it, studied it, adapted to it until she couldn’t imagine a world without magic.

And yet here they were, two women brought together by magic, who only ever dealt together when it was related to magic, doing something as ordinary and non-magical as a date. It brought a strange, bitter-sweet taste into her mouth. She’d let Nico go because she knew that Nico’s non-magical world could never go together with Mel’s magic the way she wanted it to. Jada let her go because Mel refused to run away from the scary parts magic brought. And Ruby didn’t want anything to do with magic that, by this point, was as much a part of Mel as her blood. Abigael’s world was just as filled with magic as Mel’s was. She accepted magic for what it was, studied it just as Mel did, learnt about it and used it. She was a part of it, and it a part of her, so much that it bled into her identity as a person, just like it did to Mel.

And yet they found themselves in ordinary situations more and more often. Mel wasn’t sure what to think of it. Perhaps it was one of life’s simple pleasures that they were able to exist together in all kinds of situations, or maybe it was a sign that they were more compatible than Mel had ever been with any of her previous girlfriends. Whatever it was, Mel decided, it felt good. Strange, considering their past and their lives, but good in a way Mel couldn’t remember feeling.

She stood up, slowly, eyes never leaving Abigael’s lithe form, and walked over to the sink. “Or I can help you with this and then we can pick a movie together. Don’t want to choose something you’d find boring.”

“I would make sure you knew I wasn’t happy with your choice,” Abigael hummed, a smile on her face and eyes watching the water flowing from the tap. “If you insist on helping, you can dry. There’s a cloth in the cupboard over there.”

Mel only quirked an eyebrow and pursed her lips a little. While the idea of doing the dishes the completely ordinary way was appealing in the context they were in, they were still witches, and Mel embraced that completely, with all of its advantages and drawbacks. Not to mention she hadn’t dried the dishes in the ‘normal’ way since she discovered her powers of molecular manipulation.

Abigael returned the gaze with her own quirked eyebrow and an expression stuck somewhere between expectation and amusement. Mel noticed the relaxed muscles of her jaw, the easiness around her mouth, the softness in her hazel eyes, and she was struck with how beautiful Abigael truly was. Sure, Mel had noticed her beauty before, sharp as a razor when she was angry and irritating like nothing else in the world when she was smug, but this time, it was different. This time, Abigael was calm, there was no undertone to her presence, no domineering aura, no smug or patronising smirk on her face, and the beauty that was caught at the tips of her features was elegant, soft. She’s only ever seen Abigael like this once, at the bar at Safe Space after she’d been stripped of the title of the Demon Overlord. Mel remembered that look made her confused back then, and gave her hope that Abigael could come to like her witch side. Now that look made a pleasant warmth course through her body in pulses, each stronger than the last. 

As if she wanted to challenge Mel, Abigael offered her a dripping wet plate with an expectant look on her face. With only a little focus, Mel heated the water on the porcelain enough so that it evaporated in a matter of seconds, then she took the dry plate from Abigael’s hand, letting their fingers brush purposefully as she did so.

“Where should I put it?”

Abigael opened her mouth to answer, but she stopped herself. A smirk curled the corners of her mouth up and mischievous sparkles flashed in her eyes. She heated her hands, drying them off instantly, then she stepped around Mel, trapping her between her body and the kitchen counter. She reached out and opened one of the cabinet doors, her lithe form pressed into Mel’s body in a way that couldn’t have been accidental.

“Right there,” Abigael answered, taking the plate from Mel’s hands and putting it away, but she didn’t move from her spot.

“You know you could have done that with a wave of your hand, right?”

Lowering her head slightly, Abigael hummed. “But then I wouldn’t have you trapped here, would I?”

The intoxicating scent of vanilla and spice that Abigael usually wore made Mel’s head spin this close up and the way she could feel the demon-witch’s warm breath on her cheeks and lips made her whole body come alive with warmth.

“Trapped, huh? And what do you plan to do with me?”

Abigael’s eyes shifted between Mel’s own eyes and her lips, then back again, over and over, as if she was debating what to do.

Mel’s hands twitched where they rested on the counter behind her, fingers longing to caress the sharp jawline and tug at the brown hair in front of her. Her lips tingled and trembled from the anticipation. She tilted her head up a little, craning her neck slightly, then she pulled back, unsure. Abigael was a very sexual person, if she hadn’t kissed her until now, there must have been a reason. But now would be the perfect time, and they both wanted it, judging by the look of pure desire on Abigael’s face, so why stop?

The tips of their noses touched and they both let out small giggles at the tickling sensation. Mel’s hands moved up on their own accord, searching to touch and pull at Abigael’s skin, hair, anything.

The loud, insistent chiming of Mel’s phone broke through the air, bringing them both from their trance. Abigael stepped back, enough to allow Mel to slip past her and to her phone.

“It’s Maggie,” she informed with a frown on her face that got increasingly deeper with each message she read. “There was a demon attack. I have to go.”

“Of course,” Abigael nodded. She schooled her expression into one of disinterest, but Mel could see through her mask and into the disappointed but happy eyes.

Mel’s shoulders sagged a little. “I’m sorry. I would have loved to see that movie with you.”

“Then perhaps another time?”

“Yes, definitely. I… I had a really good time tonight. Thank you.”

A small, soft smile appeared on Abigael’s face. “Thank you for joining me.”

“Any time. I mean that; I would love to do this again.”

“I’ll be in touch, then,” the demon-with promised with that smile still on her face. They just looked at each other, both knowing the night had to end but neither wanting to end it just yet. After another chime of Mel’s phone, Abigael let out a sigh. “You should probably go now.”

“Yeah.”

“You have my number if you need help.”

“Yes, thank you,” Mel smiled at the offer. They stood there for just a second longer, then, with a smile and an awkward wave of her hand, Mel rushed out of the apartment.

She walked out of the apartment building and into the cold night air. She shivered, hugging herself. She’d left her jacket in Abigael’s apartment, she realized. But she couldn’t go back for it, she didn’t have the time. Besides, she only needed to find a secluded enough spot to call for Harry to orb her to her sisters. That wouldn’t take long.

Before she left, Mel chanced a look up into the yellow-shining windows of the apartment building. She didn’t know which one of those windows was Abigael’s, or if she even saw her window from this side, but she still sent her a quiet good night before heading out into the evening streets of Seattle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's it from me. I hope you liked the story! Let me know what you think in the comments below or come talk to me on my [Tumblr](https://justalittlewritingnerd.tumblr.com/)! I know it's almost empty, but I check it almost every day! 
> 
> I'm not sure when the next chapter will be updated, as I haven't even started writing it due to the fact that I'm swarmed with new ideas for these two characters, but I will work on it, I promise. 
> 
> I hate you all, hoomans!


	3. First Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there! 
> 
> Finally, after all these weeks, I'm back. I'll be honest, this chapter gave me more than just a few headaches. I made it a theme of this story to make everything as normal and mundane as I possibly can and I just couldn't figure out the most mundane first kiss! But I did manage to think of something, so here we are. 
> 
> I'm going to mark this story as complete for now. I have a lot of school work and a few other projects in the work so I won't have enough time to write anything for this fic. I was thinking of including their first argument or their first time (I'm not quite sure how I feel about that one considering it hasn't been done in this fandom yet), so let me know if you want me to write more and which one you want to see more. I might get to it when I have more time on my hands. 
> 
> Now, without further ado, enjoy!

Mel had been positively giddy for the past week. She was so happy after her dinner with Abigael that she couldn’t keep a smile off of her face. That was highly unusual for her; considering her dating history, Mel was always good at keeping her romantic relationships separate from her everyday life if the relationship was in its early stages. She always made sure not to give anyone a reason to suspect her involvement with other people until she was sure that was something both her and her partner wanted. She wasn’t graceful about it, and she mostly only got away with it because her sisters were oblivious and her mother hadn’t wanted to pry, but she always made an effort.

That couldn’t be said about the current situation, though. She was in a state of perpetual content which spiked to happiness anytime Abigael sent her a text. Which, granted, wasn’t that often, maybe once every day or two, but it was enough to keep Mel on cloud nine with no way back down to earth. She knew it was bad but she had no way of stopping it.

It got so bad, in fact, that even her sisters noticed, which was saying something. But Mel only learnt that on one dark, chilly evening when she was ambushed while trying to enjoy her evening tea.

“What’s with you?” asked Maggie with a curious tilt to her eyebrows and that half-smile that she donned when she wanted to smile but wasn’t sure it was appropriate

Mel’s grip on her cup of tea tightened a little. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been acting weird since last week,” Maggie clarified quickly.

“Yeah, since that demon attack,” Macy joined in.

Mel shifted on her spot on the kitchen counter, looking from one of her sisters to the other, hoping that they wouldn’t make the connection to the dinner and Abigael. Not that she was ashamed of Abigael and her own growing feelings for the demon-witch, she would gladly walk hand-in-hand with Abigael through the city and glare at anyone who even dared to look longingly at her, as long as it was away from her sisters. She knew they wouldn’t be happy with that particular development, and she didn’t want to tell them until she absolutely had to. She could already imagine the fit Macy would throw once she’d learn Mel even thought of Abigael that way, let alone been on a date with her.

Not that she blamed her sisters, Abigael had done her fair share of bad things and Mel refused to forget about that. Macy, especially, was entitled to have an opinion on Abigael, after everything that had gone down between them, and between the two of them and Harry. The thought still made Mel cringe more than just a little.

“Wait!” Maggie gasped, eyes wide as if she just realized something. She then pointed an accusatory finger in Mel’s direction. “You went out that evening!”

Instead of responding, Mel took a sip of her coffee.

Maggie took the silence as her permission to continue. “Spill! Was it a good date or was it a _good_ date?”

“Stop!” Mel glared at her younger sister. The fuzzy feeling in her chest intensified at the prospect of telling someone about her date with Abigael, but she tried to push it down. She couldn’t tell her sisters anything. Maggie especially would be very hard to deter once she learnt there was something to pester her sister about. The girl had no semblance of boundaries.

“C’mon, we’re your sisters!” Maggie pressed. “Who else would you tell if not us?”

“Leave it. I’ve just been in a good mood, that’s all. And you’re spoiling it, so stop.”

“You don’t just get into a good mood,” Macy remarked with a shrug. “Your default state is somewhere between irritated and angry, and don’t give me that look, you know I’m right.”

“She is,” Maggie agreed quickly. “The last time you’ve been this happy was when you got back with Nico, before the whole time-change thing! You were on a date, and it was a good one, wasn’t it? It was! Or you wouldn’t be glowing like a glowstick!”

Mel looked at her sisters, taking in their knowing, expectant looks and the sincere curiosity in their eyes. She wanted to tell them. Not everything, no, she didn’t want them to know who she’d been on a date with or the details about it, she still wanted to keep those to herself, like a dirty little secret. Which it essentially was. But she did want to vent a little. She’d had enough times to replay the date in her mind a hundred times over, to analyse it and fantasise about more to come, to deal with her feelings on her own.

Besides, telling someone would only make it more real. And Mel wanted to make it as real as she could.

A wide, happy grin broke on her face. “It was so good.”

Maggie squealed, squirming on her seat like a kid at Christmas dinner and her eyes shining with excitement. Macy, while much less obvious in her reaction, seemed to be just as happy. If only they knew who it was that made Mel so giddy, they would have a completely different reaction.

“C’mon! Don’t stop there! What’s she like?” Maggie probed, clearly dissatisfied with the lack of information.

“She’s…” Mel let out a sigh, trying to find the right words. Maggie apparently interpreted it as something very good because she squealed again and placed her jaw on her hands, leaning forwards in her seat. “… she’s amazing. Funny and incredibly intelligent, has the sharpest wit I’ve ever seen in anyone.”

“Sharper than Abigael?” Maggie asked with disbelief in her voice. Macy cleared her throat but didn’t say anything.

“Uhm…”

“What was the date like?” Macy asked with a smile that was half-forced. She didn’t seem to want to talk about Abigael any more than she wanted to talk about a maggot infection.

What she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

“It was perfect,” Mel gushed, grinning like a madwoman.

Maggie let out a quiet whistle. “Ooh, is she any good?”

Mel glared at her younger sister. “I don’t know, we didn’t even kiss.”

“What? And you call that a date?”

“You interrupted!”

“Err, excuse me, there was a demon attack!” Maggie defended herself.

“Yeah, what did you tell her about that? She must have been pretty disappointed that nothing happened.”

“I said there was a family emergency,” Mel shrugged. “She understood.”

“Wait, so,” Maggie probed again, “you had the perfect date and you didn’t even kiss? What did you do, then?”

“We had a conversation like normal people do. She cooked dinner so we talked about food. And our families, things like that,” Mel explained. It was one thing to feel normal about her date with Abigael but to say that it was completely normal filled her with the strangest combination of exhilaration and calmness.

“Wow,” Maggie breathed out, eyes wide and a perplexed expression on her face. “So, nothing happened? As in _nothing,_ nothing? And you call that a good date?”

Mel rolled her eyes. “Well, we did have a moment, but you decided to ruin it.”

“Aww, you can’t blame that on me! There was—”

“A demon attack, I know. And I’m not blaming you. She was okay with it and we… we’re taking things slow. Just getting to know each other better.”

Macy gave her a look that was somewhere between surprise and cynical disbelief. “Since when do you take things slow?”

That gave Mel a pause. When _did_ she start taking things slowly? She wasn’t someone to tiptoe around things, especially not relationship-based things. She didn’t put out on the first date, no, but she didn’t like to wait too long, either. But now… now it felt different. Now she didn’t want to jump Abigael’s bones. Well, she did, of course, Abigael was hot as all hells and she clearly had the experience to make Mel forget her name in minutes, and just that thought put a thousand ideas into Mel’s head, each more enticing and exciting than the last.

At the same time, she didn’t want to rush into this. For all her recklessness and bravado, this was one thing she didn’t want to stomp her way into. Things between her and Abigael seemed to have a strange, natural course of development that tended to move in the most unexpected ways. It was like a wild animal curious about a human sleeping under a tree—it was slowly getting closer, slowly getting used to the shift in the air, but one wrong move would scare it away. And Mel didn’t want to scare it away.

“Our lives are crazy,” Mel said finally, after a long moment of silence. “We don’t know what’s going to happen in the next five minutes. I…I don’t want to create an attachment that might break in a few days just because there’s danger.”

That got sympathetic nods out of her sisters. Macy smiled a small, supportive smile that made Mel’s stomach turn a little. It was amazing to feel accepted and supported by her family and to have her choice sort of approved. But if Macy knew who Mel’s choice was, she wouldn’t even think about looking Mel’s way. The strangeness of that took Mel’s breath away like a sucker-punch to the stomach.

“It’s going to be fine,” Macy said in a soft voice that only pushed the cold dagger of guilt and longing further into Mel’s stomach. “If she’s the one for you, she won’t leave.”

“At least tell us her name!”

Pushing past the coldness in her gut, Mel gave her sister a pointed look. “I must keep some things secret.”

“C’mon, Mel!” Maggie whined, complete with a pout on her face. “We can’t just call her Mystery Girl.”

Macy shrugged. “Why not? MG for short. Until Mel’s comfortable with giving us an actual name and face of this Mystery girl.”

“Fine,” Maggie pouted even more. “MG it is…”

“You two goofballs need to focus on different things and leave my love life alone,” Mel pointed an accusatory finger at her sisters. “And you should go to bed. I’m going, too.”

“Tell us something more about MG?”

“Mags,” Mel warned, cocking her head to the side a little.

“Okay, fine! You and MG really need to get your mojo on, you’re even more tense than usual…”

Mel wanted to say something, whether to defend herself or scold her sister was yet to be seen, but Macy’s loud, free laughter stopped her. After a few seconds, Maggie joined in, snorting a little as she went to take a breath in between laughing.

There was a warmth tickling at Mel’s stomach. They hadn’t had enough occasions to laugh in the past few weeks, they needed to let go of the tension, to remind themselves that they were sisters and that they were together. They were better together. Their differences were their strengths. Nothing was stronger than their sisterhood. Not even Mel’s growing feelings for a certain British witch-demon.

With that in mind, Mel allowed herself to chuckle along with her sisters. It might take some work, or a lot of work, but they were going to be fine. That was if Abigael decided to stick around for long enough.

It didn’t take them long to say their goodnights and part ways after that. Mel felt surprisingly light as she walked into her room, like she was on a cloud, and not in that way that Abigael made her feel. It was a strange feeling, she decided after pondering it for a moment or two. Closeness and companionship and safety stemming from the knowledge that her sisters were there for her in all their annoying, prodding ways.

She didn’t think that talking to them would be so freeing. Even though she couldn’t tell them everything, at least not yet. It was too fresh still, both her relationship with Abigael and her sisters’ distrust of her. She only hoped things would calm down enough for them not to try and vanquish Abigael upon learning about them.

But was there a ‘them’ to learn about? Was there an actual relationship between Mel and Abigael? Mel didn’t know. She still wasn’t quite sure what that whole dinner had been. She referred to it as a date because that’s what she wanted it to be, but Abigael had never said anything about any dates and Mel hadn’t said anything either and now they were… just existing. It was comforting in the strangest of ways that they could just exist with no pressure, no expectations, and still understand each other. And yet, the expectations were there, the pressure was there.

Maybe it was only Mel who felt it. Maybe Abigael only thought of it as one of her conquests.

When her phone chimed with a text, Mel frowned, trying to suppress the smile that wanted to break out on her lips in excitement. She and Abigael texted very rarely, and they only checked up on each other or let the other know they were safe and sound. Usually, it was just one text in the evening or late at night, right before bed. But Abigael had checked in earlier, with a simple _‘I’m going to bed, hope you’re doing well’_ , so it couldn’t possibly be her.

But it was, and seeing her name on the screen made Mel’s heart give an excited flutter. Then she paused. They never texted more than two or three texts per day or two. Was it something bad? No, she told herself, they called when they needed witchy help. It was a sort of a code between them; texting was for when things were okay, a phone call meant trouble. Abigael wouldn’t text if she were in danger or needed help. 

The message was short. No emojis, no crazy punctuation that Maggie liked to use in her texts, nothing excessive or alarming. Just a simple _‘can I come over?’._

Mel’s fingers typed out a message before she even had a chance to think about it. _‘Sure, the wards around my room are down’._

The wards weren’t down, exactly, Mel’d just altered them the last time they had needed Abigael to phase-shift in and they had forgotten to redo them. Well, Macy and Maggie had forgotten, Mel had decided it was handy for Abigael to have access to the house. And not just because of herself, either. They seemed to need her help more than Macy would like to admit, after all. 

Soon enough, before Mel had the time to even worry whether she and her room were presentable enough to withstand Abigael’s ridiculously high standards, a cloud of black smoke appeared in front of her. Mel couldn’t help the grin that spread on her face as she watched the witch-demon materialise in the middle of her room. 

When the smoke cleared and Mel was faced with the beauty of those hazel eyes and soft-looking, pink lips, her throat clenched. They haven’t seen each other in more than a week, if Mel counted out the time Abigael came in to warn them about a group of demon assassins out to kill them, which she did seeing as that concerned her sisters, too. They had checked on each other, but actually being this close, in the same room, made her nervous. The same uncertainty that she’d battled back during their date in Abigael’s apartment gripped at her lungs. How was she supposed to act? Was she allowed to use pet names? Were they an item? Why was Abigael here? She didn’t look distressed or hurt so there was no emergency or a demon attack, Mel was sure. Could she have come just to see Mel? No, that was… could she? 

“Hey,” Abigael broke the silence in a soft voice. That was when Mel noticed the tension around her eyes and how tired her voice sounded. Her skin looked paler than usual and her flawless, straight posture seemed more forced and not half as graceful as it usually did. Offering a small, tired smile, Abigael lifted her hand with a black jacket hanging from her finger. “You forgot this.”

“That was over a week ago,” Mel pointed out, but she still took the jacket from Abigael’s hand. “Somehow, I don’t think that’s the only reason you came here.”

“I--” Abigael cut herself off. She swallowed, her throat bobbing with the action, and her eyes fell to Mel’s neck before getting back up. “I had a tough week and, well, you can always take my mind off of things.”

Mel’s eyes narrowed. “Was that you flirting or you telling me that I’m annoying?”

“I think the first option is safer for me,” Abigael said with a diplomatically straight face, but she grinned as soon as Mel frowned at her. 

“I hate it when you do that,” Mel sighed. 

“You know, Little Witch, I’ve always admired your ability to lie to yourself. It must be very freeing to live in denial.”

“How do I find you attractive even when you’re an asshole?”

“I am a very attractive arsehole.”

At that moment, Mel wanted to kiss Abigael more than anything, with those words hanging in the air around them, with Abigael’s half-smirk in place, with her hazel eyes staring deeply into Mel’s own like she wanted to kiss her just as much. But she only rolled her eyes and went to put away the jacket. Abigael hadn’t been there for even five minutes and she already made Mel feel light as a feather, excited, giddy, calm and irritated at the same time. It was a strange cocktail of emotions to experience; a one Mel didn’t quite know how to handle. Abigael made her feel so many different things. Some of them she knew from her time with Nico, the calmness, the safety, the content; others she experienced with Jada, excitement, thrill, hunger; and some that were completely new, unlike anything she could have imagined. 

When she turned back around, she found Abigael standing in the middle of her room with hands folded at her lap, with a few strands of hair hanging loosely from the low bun she was wearing, shoulders square yet slightly sagged, confident and regal like she always was, but still somehow uneasy. It was the strangest Mel had ever seen her. A part of her enjoyed seeing Abigael like this, Mel realised, a little awkward, a little unsure, looking much more like an ordinary human than Mel remembered.

Looking into those captivating, cattish eyes, Mel again noticed the dark circles and the pale skin under her perfect make-up. “Long day?”

Abigael let out a long breath. “You might say that, yes.”

“Wanna talk about it?” Mel asked before she had a chance to think about it. But once she realised what she said, she froze. They never discussed things like that. Granted, the only interaction they had since their date was with Mel’s sisters present and those that were private were short text messages that didn’t allow for much of a conversation, but it still felt strange somehow, like this simple question could change their whole relationship. And it could, Mel thought, because their relationship was based on necessity and discussing something as mundane as their day was not a necessity. 

But then again, neither was discussing food or Mel’s sisters or the magic of demons and they still talked about those. Maybe Mel was just overanalysing. Probably, yes. Maybe she’d overanalysed it so much that she got herself into thinking that there was something between them. 

“Just the everyday case of demons hunting their former Overlord, nothing out of the ordinary. Frankly, I’d rather just forget about it.”

Mel could feel her heart sinking into her stomach as a boulder would sink underwater. Clearly, they didn’t have a strong enough relationship to talk about mundane things. Not like she wasn’t expecting just that. 

Instead of focusing on that, Mel made herself grin. “Do you have any evil plot in mind to help you forget?”

“Well,” Abigael purred, eyes shining in the dim light of the room, “I was thinking I’d see how you fare with horror films.”

Mel gave her the most unimpressed look she could muster. “I fight demons with crazy murder and torture powers almost every day and I watch true crime documentaries to help me relax. There isn’t a horror story I would be scared of.”

Abigael shrugged. “We could always turn on the news.”

Letting out something between a chuckle and a sigh, Mel turned back to her closet. “Please, no. I don’t want a headache.”

“That’s a fair point. What are you doing?”

“You’ve never had a sleepover?” Mel asked, pulling out a pair of loose yoga-pants and a tank-top. 

“Not one where clothes stay on, no.”

Mel rolled her eyes with a smile on her lips before handing the clothes over to Abigael. “Well, the clothes are staying on and you need to change if you want to be comfortable.”

“This dress is comfortable,” Abigael protested, but she took the clothes nonetheless. 

“Not to lie in for two hours, it’s not. Get changed. I’m going to get my laptop.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay for a show?” Abigael teased, her eyes dark and sparkling with mischief and that irritating, secretive smirk on her lips. 

“Just get changed!” Mel ordered, chuckling a little at Abigael’s antics before walking away. Only when she closed the food did she realise what Abigael actually said. Was that what she meant when she said she wanted to take her mind off of things? Did she come over for sex? Knowing Abigael, it wasn’t that ludicrous, Abigael liked sex and never shied away from trying to initiate it. And she liked casual, so she probably didn’t see a relationship between them as a requirement. Then again, Abigael probably didn’t care about having an actual relationship at all. 

But she was so polite during their date, and she only flirted a little! But… they’d never said it was a date. It was implied, sure, but with Abigael, implications such as that came easy. It might have just been an ‘I want to shag you’ dinner for all Mel knew. She had done that for Harry, after all. 

Mel shuddered. She still couldn’t wrap her head around having a…a thing with a woman who used to like Harry. Not that there was anything wrong with it, after all, Harry was a protective, caring and lovable soul and he was probably attractive. Mel wasn’t quite sure on that one, she was gay after all, and she saw him as a sort of a father figure more than anything. But even those things considered, it was still weird to think about Abigael liking him. 

She needed to talk to Abigael. Really talk. Even if that meant baring her own heart, hopes and desires, something she didn’t want to do in the place they were in now. But if she didn’t do it, they might never move from that place and she wanted that even less.

That was it, she decided with the laptop held firmly against her chest, she would do it. She would choose some mindless movie and she’d talk to Abigael. 

When she got back to her room, she found Abigael already dressed in the clothes chosen for her, with strands of hair hanging freely, kind of messily, from the low bun. She looked so ordinary in those clothes, like a human and not a powerful witch-demon or frightening demon Overlord, or a cunning adversary, or a sexy seductress. And for Mel, at that moment, Abigael looked more like a person she wanted to love than ever before. 

Grinning like a child under a Christmas tree, Mel looked the witch-demon up and down. “Wow. I’m never going to unsee this.”

Abigael smirked in that irritating, teasing way of hers. “You’d have had a better view a few minutes ago.”

Mel cleared her throat and busied herself with setting up the laptop on her bed. She didn’t need the images of an almost-naked Abigael in her mind right now. They haven’t even kissed yet! Thinking about sex at this stage was just disrespectful. Then again, she was thinking about Abigael, so conventional relationship progression probably didn't matter. 

“Just get into bed,” Mel sighed when she didn’t quite manage to flush the inappropriate thoughts from her mind. 

“Already? Had I known it was that kind of film, I would have dressed more appropriately,” Abigael smirked that sexy, infuriating, teasing smirk that she often donned, but when she got onto the bed, it was in the least seductive way possible. It was Abigael, so it was sexy by default, but it could have been more elaborate had Abigael wanted it to be. She could have crawled onto the bed on her hands and knees with her ass up or she could have shimmied up the covers, on her back, with her chest out and eyes firmly on Mel’s… not the time! She needed to know where she stood with Abigael before she allowed herself to fantasise! 

“So, horror?” Mel asked, situating herself on the bed, careful to keep a respectful distance between them.

“I just wanted to know if you’d hide in my shoulder during the scary parts,” Abigael admitted with a smile that was both sincere and teasing. 

“I definitely wouldn’t.”

“Then I leave the choice up to you,” Abigael said with a small bow and a wave of her hand in a gesture of generosity. 

Rolling her eyes at Abigael’s theatrics, Mel looked through the suggested films that appeared on the screen. Documentaries mixed with Maggie’s romantic comedies and Macy’s 80’s sci-fi with a few black-and-white and old detective films that Harry sometimes liked to watch sprinkled through. Nothing Abigael would consider watch-worthy, Mel thought. 

Then she saw the familiar cover picture of My Neighbour Totoro. 

“Hey, how do you feel about animated films?” Mel asked before she could talk herself out of the idea.

“Depending on the film. What did you have in mind?”

“One of the Ghibli movies.”

“Ooh, which one?” 

Mel turned to her, perplexed. “You know Ghibli movies?”

“They’re nice,” Abigael shrugged. “Most have beautiful art and nice messages. Plus, they are a part of modern pop-culture.”

Mel hummed her acknowledgement. “Which one do you want to watch?”

“Just pick whichever one you like. I’m pretty sure I already know which one it’ll be, anyway.”

“Oh, yeah?” Mel challenged, unable to hold back the small grin that settled over her face. There was no way Abigael could guess her favourite movie if she thought Mel was afraid of horror films. 

Abigael let out a hum, a confident smile gracing her lips. “Princess Mononoke.”

Mel’s grin turned victorious. “Close, but no.”

“Now, that’s a lie!”

“Nope! My favourite is Howl’s Moving Castle.”

Abigael’s eyebrow quirked in that curious, intrigued expression that she often regarded Mel with, and Mel could feel her cheeks heating up under the stare. “I would never have taken you for a romantic soul.”

“I’m not!” Mel protested perhaps too quickly. She ignored the knowing, smug smirk on Abigael’s face and continued her explanation, looking stubbornly at the laptop screen. “I just like how the story focuses on the importance of self-acceptance and self-love. And the main character is a strong, driven woman. Plus, it deals with power and the darkness connected with that power, and with accepting that darkness as a part of a person that can be fought against.”

“And that’s romantic,” Abigael’s victorious grin was audible in her voice. 

“Well, not everything is about wild, pig-headed women who refuse feelings because of their own egoism.”

“Good guess, but Princess Mononoke is my second favourite Ghibli film.”

That made Mel look at the witch-demon in confusion. It made sense that Abigael would like a film about an independent woman who did what was necessary and stood up to the demons of the human world as well as her own, only to then run her back on the humanity that was inside of her. That was pretty much who Abigael was, or at least that was the part of her that she showed the world. 

But Abigael was so much more than what she showed the world. When she let her tough exterior fall, she was caring and sweet. She thought deeply about what it meant to be who she was, who she wanted to be. 

With that in mind, Mel searched for Spirited Away, but just as she went to put it on, Abigael’s soft hand on her own stopped her. 

“Why don’t we watch Howl instead, hm? I want to know if I’ll see what you see in it. Although I still think it’s dreadfully romantic.”

“Don’t watch films with Maggie, then. Your blood would turn into sugar. I’m surprised I don’t have diabetes from all those romantic movies she’d made me watch through the years.”

“Trust me, you are the only Charmed One I’d ever consider watching movies with. I would vanquish myself before I’d willingly watch any of those distasteful cinema abominations.”

“There’s that snark,” Mel remarked with a fond smile. “I was wondering what happened to you that made you behave.”

Abigael hummed, smirking. “You must be a bad influence on me.”

“A bad influence?”

“Shh, the film’s starting.”

“Don’t shush me!”

“Hush, Luv,” Abigael said with grin clear in her voice. 

“That’s not better!”

“It’s your favourite film, the sooner you stop talking the sooner we can get to watching it.”

“Why don’t you be quiet? You wanted to watch it,” Mel pointed out just as she pressed play. 

“You know I like riling you up,” Abigael said, still smirking, but her voice and eyes turned soft with an emotion Mel wouldn’t have dared to name if she could. 

“I don’t see what’s so funny about it.”

“Maybe I’ll tell you one day.”

Mel grumbled, pushing herself further into the pillow. “Just be quiet. I wanna watch the movie.”

Abigael murmured something, Mel could see her lips move from the corner of her eye, but they were getting to the scene where Howl first appears and Mel wanted to just enjoy the film so she let it slide. 

As they watched Howl lead Sophie away from the blob minions, Abigael leaned closer to Mel. The warmth of her body made Mel shudder and melt in her place. “That reminds me,” Abigael said in a voice that was somewhere between a purr and a growl, “of our first mission together.”

“You mean the one where you almost got me killed?” Mel whispered back, her mind flashing back to her encounter with the Kyon for a moment.

“I did save you from that trap in the Kyon den.”

“And then you annoyed me into drinking a potion that could have killed me.”

“In my defence, I didn’t know you were going to do that,” Abigael admitted. “Actually, I thought you were going to make me drink it.”

“That’s not how we do things.”

“Yes, you like to take the difficult way,” Abigael remarked almost lazily. 

“Hush!” Mel whispered, patting Abigael’s hand to get her attention back to the screen. “We’re at the curse scene.”

Engrossed in the story as she was, Mel didn’t even realise that she didn’t let go of Abigael’s hand or that the witch-demon didn’t even try to move away from her. Nor did she notice that as the story progressed, they shifted closer and closer to each other until Mel’s head was resting on Abigael’s shoulder and their feet were tangled together under the sheets. 

Such a normal thing to do, Mel thought during the slightly boring part where Sophie cleans the house, watching a movie together. Lying in silence, warm and cosy, comfortable with each other enough to let their guard down and focus on the story. It was almost comically strange how two of the most powerful magic users in the world who were bound to be enemies could do something as ordinary as cuddle in a bed while watching a movie. 

Then again, many of their past interactions were made of unbelievably mundane things. The burgers, the dinner at Abigael’s, the texts, they were all so human, so normal, so ordinary. And yet, they were filled with an entirely new form of magic. Even now, warm and content in the silence and safety of each other’s presence, there was something in the air. Or perhaps in them, Mel wasn’t sure. But it was there and it made Mel’s body relaxed and tense at the same time, content and excited, happy and scared. A myriad of emotions she had no way of controlling. Not that she particularly wanted to. This moment, all these moments between them, was filled with magic of a completely different kind, one that, unlike all the other kinds, Mel wanted to experience and enjoy rather than learn. 

It made her think back to Abigael’s potion book and the message scribbled there. _Love is the real magic_. Could this be—no. No, they weren’t that far along yet. Maybe they never would be, considering Abigael’s track record or flings and one-night stands. But this whole thing between them, it did feel like magic. So, maybe a little? 

A little. Yeah, she could live with that, Mel decided, snuggling even further into the warmth of Abigael’s lithe body. She was okay with being a little in love with Abigael. 

They were little over an hour in when Abigael spoke up again. “I think I finally understand why you like this film so much. You are very similar to Sophie. Stubborn, reckless, brave, proud of your achievements but not looks or personality, willing to sacrifice herself for your family, completely oblivious to the beauty you possess inside and out… willing to do care for someone who could easily become a monster.”

Mel could feel her cheeks warming up. She frowned a little, trying and failing to wrap her head around Abigael’s words. Instead, she focused on something different. “You should like the film, too, then, because you are just a sexier version of Howl.”

“You think I’m sexy?” the smirk was audible in Abigael’s voice. 

“And selfish, and arrogant, and very talented. Also caring, when you think someone’s worthy of it.”

“And you say I need to work on my compliments…”

Mel rolled her eyes with a fond smile on her face, but she didn’t respond. 

A silence fell over them as they again got sucked into the story. Mel watched with a familiar longing how Howl sacrifices himself for Sophie, how she realises she loves him and accepts him, and herself for just a moment, how Howl remakes his house into their home. But there’s a new emotion in her as well, the warmth of affection, a tingle of wonder. Howl is a selfish man changed by love. Could Abigael also be changed? Could she come to love so strongly that her selfish ambition would give way to selflessness, at least somewhat? 

Resisting the urge to shake her head, Mel scoffed at herself. Of course, Abigael could love. It might be new and scary for her, genuinely caring for someone instead of desiring and owning them for a time, but she could love, and passionately so, Mel assumed. But that didn’t mean Abigael would love her. For all she knew, they were just friends, or she was just another one of Abigael’s conquests. Just that she had growing feelings didn’t mean those feelings were reciprocated. 

Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to watch Howl’s Moving Castle. Now she was left with pestering thoughts of Abigael turning to the light. Not like that would ever happen, she was used to her darkness, to using it and protecting herself with it. It would take much more than a brave-hearted girl to change her at least a little bit. 

But she wasn’t evil, Mel reminded herself. She might not be the person who donated to charities and knitted blankets for dogs in shelters, but she wasn’t randomly murdering, terrorising and destroying everything around her, either. She wasn’t good but she wasn’t evil, either and that greyish area was enough for Mel. Her sisters would disagree, but for Mel, it was enough. Sometimes, a person needed to be a little bad to be good. 

As they watched Howl showing Sophie his secret garden, a part of himself that he kept private and secret from everyone until that moment, a whole set of new questions and images flooded Mel’s mind. Did Abigael have it in her to bare herself like that? To show her secrets, to show her vulnerability hidden under the sarcasm? But hadn’t she done that already? With her mother’s potion book, talking about her mother, in the conversations they’d had after that? The burger place, the dinner at her apartment. In all of those, Abigael bared herself, showed Mel parts of her past and personality no one else got to see or know about. 

In the film, Howl baring himself like that meant that he loved Sophie and accepted her, his love for her, and himself. Could it be that showing herself like that meant that Abigael was a little in love with Mel, too? 

Mel was brought out of her musings by warm breath on the shell of her ear. Then there was a gentle touch on her temple, then another on the side of her cheekbone. Abigael was persistently nosing at the side of her face like she wanted something but didn’t know how to ask for it. 

Maybe that was it. Maybe she really wanted something. And with how the dinner at Abigael’s place had ended, and with the soft, vulnerable scene in the film in front of them, there was only one thing Mel could think of that Abigael might want. And if she was honest with herself, she wanted it, too. 

Mel could feel her heart speeding up. Her belly fluttered nervously and her free hands curled into a fist to hide that it was shaking. She licked her trembling lips, berating herself for not wearing chapstick that day. Would Abigael say something about her dry lips? Would she tease Mel for breathing a bit too hard in anticipation?

What would it be like, kissing Abigael? Hard, passionate, demanding, with the clear intention to dominate and own and move it a step further? Soft, tentative, with neither of them knowing what to do and what to expect, awkward, just getting to know the other? Or would it be something completely different? Considering it was Abigael, it would be fast and controlling, precise and seductive in every movement, like she usually was. But she wasn’t like that with Mel. No, she was calm, attentive, almost like she knew there was no reason for her to hurry, like she wanted to take her time, to learn Mel. 

The touch of Abigael’s nose on her cheek was gone. Did Mel really just pass up an opportunity to kiss her because she was thinking about kissing her? Where was her reckless courage when she needed it? 

Without realising it, Mel turned to face Abigael, tilting her head back a little. She was nervous, anxious, hopeful, full of excitement and expectation and curiosity. 

Their lips touched, and the only thing Mel could comprehend at that moment was the warmth. The kiss was warm, as so many things about Abigael were. It wasn’t slow or fast, soft or hard. It was familiar with Abigael’s warmth, scent and presence all around her, yet completely new and exhilarating. It felt like a first kiss should feel, packed with expectations, offering relief, allowing for nervousness, but at the same time, it felt like they’d already done it a thousand times, like they knew each other in this way, like it was an everyday occurrence that they kiss like that. The pressure, the movement of lips, the gentle strokes of their tongues, it was all so familiar. They were like dancers who learnt the steps with someone else but practised together way before the actual performance. 

When they parted, Mel licked her lips to saviour the last traces of Abigael’s taste. She smiled a little, a smile that she couldn’t keep off of her face if she tried, and she snuggled back into Abigael’s warm body like they’ve done this precise thing every weekend and it was their routine. Neither of them said anything. The just went back to watching the film, huddled together, their hands still holding onto each other. 

They finished the film in comfortable silence, with the increasingly more frequent yawns from both of them as the only exception. And as they watched Howl and Sophie kiss just before the credits rolled, Mel squeezed at Abigael’s hand and she returned the gesture. 

“Wanna watch something else?” Mel asked, voice barely above a whisper. It felt right at that moment, in the dark room, safe and intimate, and Mel didn’t want to break that feeling. 

“I--well, I think I should get going,” Abigael murmured back. “I might fall asleep if we watch another film.”

Nodding, Mel placed the laptop onto the bedside table. “Are you okay to phase-shift? I can call you a uber if you’re too tired.”

“While having a proper walk of shame experience might sound appealing to some, I’ll stick with the demonic means of transportation. But your concern is sweet.”

“I’m not concerned!” Mel defended quickly. “I just don’t want you to split yourself or something.”

“That’s concern, Little Witch,” Abigael pointed out, grinning a small, soft grin. “And this is not Harry Potter, I can’t split myself when I’m phase-shifting.”

“I had no way of knowing that, you can’t phase-shift me.”

Abigael rolled her eyes with the tiniest pout gracing her lips. “Are you going to hold that over me forever?” 

“Until you learn it,” Mel grinned. Abigael moved to get out of the bed, but Mel squeezed her hand and pulled her back. 

Chuckling, Abigael crawled over Mel’s body, pinned her to the bed and plopped herself down comfortably on Mel’s hips. She regarded Mel with a smirk on her lips, then she lowered herself until her dark hair tickled at Mel’s cheeks and her hazel eyes sparkling with mischief were the only thing Mel could see. 

“Was this how you wanted tonight to go?” Abigael asked, voice husky and low, but still somehow soft. Mel could almost feel her brain turning off just at the sound of that voice. But before she could even ponder the question and the whole situation she was in, Abigael’s face scrunched up a little and she then let out the biggest, longest yawn yet. The moment completely gone; they fell into a fit of giggles. 

When they finally stopped laughing, Abigael’s weight was resting on Mel, their legs tangled together and faces just inches apart. Abigael’s eyes shone with a light Mel had never seen in them, so bright and genuine and soft that Mel just wanted to stare at them for the rest of her life. 

And then they were kissing, soft and warm and sweet, with one of Abigael’s hands lightly scratching at the nape of Mel’s neck and with Mel’s hands cupping Abigael’s jaw and holding her close. It felt like they’ve done it a million times before, like they’ve done everything together and now they knew there was no rush, no grand destination to get to, like there was nothing better than them just existing together and enjoying the closeness. It felt overwhelming how simple and right and normal it was. 

They parted after a few moments, or maybe hours, Mel wasn’t sure. Time was of no consequence when they were together like this. 

“For the record,” Mel murmured after a few moments of comfortable silence, “you can do that anytime you want.”

Abigael’s soft smile turned into a teasing smirk. “Even in front of your sisters?”

“Okay, almost anytime. But maybe I should try to prepare them for… you know… I mean, if this is something recurring, then…”

“I suppose. It would be preferable if Macy didn’t try to throw me out of the window when she finds out about us.”

Mel chuckled at the mental image. “She wouldn’t do that. She might try to vanquish you, though.”

“I don’t think half-demons can be vanquished, but it would be entertaining to watch her fail yet again.”

“Don’t be mean, she’s my sister.”

“And a pain in my neck,” Abigael huffed. “It takes effort not to tease you, Little Witch, don’t take away my only outlet.”

This time, it was Mel who let out a huff. “Fine. But try not to kill each other.”

“I’ll play by the rules if she does.”

Mel wanted to protest, but she stopped herself. This was Abigael, proud and pig-headed and cunning and a bit petty in some cases. Her agreeing not to purposefully butt heads with Macy was as good as it was going to get. 

Abigael nosed at Mel’s jaw for a moment before she pulled back. “Thank you. For taking my mind off of things tonight.”

“Sure. If you need to talk about anything…” Mel offered, tentative and unsure. 

“I’ll come to you,” Abigael promised after a moment. “I don’t want to talk about it tonight, but I--I will… soon.” 

“Of course. I’ll be here whenever you want to talk. Or watch a movie or something.”

“Thank you,” the softness in Abigael’s voice and the light in her eyes made Mel’s belly feel like there was a swarm of butterflies flying around. 

“Sure. Any time.”

“I should really go,” Abigael said quietly. “It’s late and I don’t want to keep you up. Not yet, at least.”

Mel slapped her shoulder. “Goof.”

Chuckling, Abigael pressed her lips against Mel’s. 

“Let me know when you get home, yeah?” Mel asked against her lips. 

“I promise. And you’d better think about where you want to eat next, it’s your turn to plan a date, Little Witch,” Abigael grinned, and after another gentle press of her lips against Mel’s, she was gone in a cloud of black smoke. 

Mel let out a breath, trying to calm her wildly beating heart. She let out a chuckle, then she laughed, full and free. There was a warmth in her chest, in her whole body, coursing through her, making her feel alive like she hadn’t in a long time. 

When she looked around her room, she found Abigael’s black dress folded over her chair. She smiled at that. She could already imagine a time when Abigael’s clothes would be a normal occurrence in her room, when Abigael would have her favourite mug in the cupboard in the kitchen, when they’d live together and laugh together and fight and make up and exist, together, like two normal, ordinary people. 

She liked that idea. In the world of magic where nothing was certain, where things were rarely as they seemed, something normal was… magical in its own way. 

Maybe she was a little more than just a little in love with Abigael. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's all for now, folks! I hope you enjoyed the story! Let me know what you thought about it in the comments or come yell at me on my [Tumblr](https://justalittlewritingnerd.tumblr.com/)! I'll be very happy to hear from you and talk to you! 
> 
> I hate you all, hoomans!

**Author's Note:**

> Well, that's all for now! I hope you liked the story. Let me know what you think in the comments below or come yell at me on my [Tumblr](https://justalittlewritingnerd.tumblr.com/)! I'd love to read your thoughts on this story! 
> 
> I hate you all, hoomans!


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